


A Better Place Since You Came Along

by ThatWouldBee_Enough



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Awkward Flirting, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Blow Jobs, Developing Relationship, Dialogue Heavy, Domestic Fluff, Drunkenness, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Family Issues, Feelings, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Gay John Laurens, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Hand Jobs, Humor, Lack of Communication, Lams - Freeform, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Modern Era, Office, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Rope Bondage, Sex, Slice of Life, Smut, Social Commentary, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 62
Words: 165,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23487547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatWouldBee_Enough/pseuds/ThatWouldBee_Enough
Summary: A little modern workplace AU lams ficPlease enjoy and let me know your thoughts in the comments! Thanks!
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Comments: 998
Kudos: 449





	1. Chapter 1

Alex threw a quick glance across the office to the conference room where the new crop of interns was slowly trickling in. Through the glass walls he could see the head of HR seated at the far end of the table, something written behind him on the white board, no doubt a phrase of welcome and the wifi credentials. He remembered his own orientation at the beginning of the year, recalled the nervous energy. He suppressed a sigh as he looked back at his screen, wishing for some of that excitement at the moment. Anything other than the busywork he was currently handling. After fifteen minutes of typing, his focus was broken by the sound of the glass door sliding shut, the last intern taking his seat at the table, and the head of HR clapping his hands together before launching into an introduction. The intern seated closest to the door, the one who had just arrived, was pulling his notebook out of his bag still, hurrying to catch up to everyone else. As he twisted in his seat to zip his bag back up, his curls falling in his face, they accidentally made eye contact. As Alex hurriedly turned back to his screen, feeling his face heat up at the prospect of getting caught staring, he saw the other man smile briefly before turning back to face the front of the room, his head tilted slightly to the side as he listened. 

Alex made his fourth trip to the kitchen for coffee a little after noon, glancing down at his phone as he walked to check the status of his food delivery, watching the little dot on the map move closer to his office. He was distracted enough that he nearly collided with someone else walking the other direction. He would have if they hadn’t jumped out of the way at the last second, tripping a bit and falling against the wall. “Shit,” Alex said, shoving his phone in his pocket and glancing up to see the intern from that morning, laughing as he straightened. “I’m sorry, I should have been looking where I was going.” It was an empty apology. He had a habit of walking places with his eyes glued to his phone, constantly multitasking, and he didn’t plan to change that now. But this new guy didn’t know that. 

“It’s fine,” he said with a grin, laughter still touching the corners of his lips. “No harm done.” 

“You just started today, right? With the new class of interns?” He knew the answer, but it was more polite to phrase it as a question than a statement. 

“Yeah. I’m John.” He stuck out his hand. “John Laurens.”

“Nice to meet you, John,” Alex said, accepting his handshake and suddenly realizing how dry his own hands were. “I’m Alexander Hamilton. Uh, Alex is fine though.” He berated himself silently for the stumble. “I’m an intern too. Started in March. How’s orientation going so far?”

“As well as orientations can ever go, I guess. A lot of information about company policies, insurance, setting up direct deposit. Exhilarating stuff,” he said with a short laugh. 

“Ha, yeah. First day stuff always drags a little I guess. Prime example of things that could have been an email.” Before John could respond, the phone in Alex’s pocket started vibrating. “Oh shit, that’s probably my food delivery.” He pulled it out, glancing at the New York area code. 

“No worries. I’ll see you around, Alex.” As he picked up the call, John gave a quick wave before walking back towards the lunch tables, pulling over another chair to sit with the rest of the new interns. Alex’s mind went blank as he watched him laugh at something with the rest of the group, his head thrown back a little and eyes squeezed shut. As he snapped back to the moment, he had to ask the delivery guy to repeat himself. 

The office administrator sent a calendar invite out towards the end of the day for a happy hour to welcome the new hires. Alex accepted all work invites on the principle that any event was a networking opportunity. He never wanted to exclude the possibility of meeting someone who could help him out in the future. Or the possibility of showing off. If this invite came with free drinks and the opportunity to talk more with the cute new intern, who was he to decline? 

Five o’clock rolled around, and Alex was busier than he anticipated. Of course the request to help put together a last minute letter for one of their clients would come at 4:30 instead of at a reasonable time. He was aware of the calendar notification in the top corner of his screen, warning him that their new hire happy hour was starting. He sighed in frustration as he mistyped a word, backspacing and fixing the mistake with more aggression than necessary. He could hear people gathering in the kitchen, the desks around him conspicuously empty. The clock in the corner of his screen switched from 5:04 to 5:05 as he forced his focus back onto his work. Just a closing paragraph. That was all he needed.

He finally closed his laptop at 5:12, the letter finished and quickly skimmed through before sending it out. It was unusual for him, leaving his desk this early. Alex usually stayed at the office until at least 6:30, preferring to get through as much work as possible before the day was done. Today was a special occasion though. One day of leaving on time couldn’t hurt. At least that’s what he kept telling himself as he hurried over to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge just in time to hear their boss, Washington, attempt to quiet everyone down. He took a seat at the table with the other interns who started with him, returning a few quick greetings. The new interns sat at the table next to them, clutching their beers, their eyes shifting around the room at all the unfamiliar faces. As Washington stood up the room finally fell silent. “Hello, everyone! I wanted to take this opportunity to welcome all of our new hires today. I hear you’re a great group, and I’m excited to see the work you’re all going to do here.” He smiled in the general direction of the new interns. “Now, first thing’s first. How about all of our new coworkers go ahead and introduce yourselves. Tell us all your name, school you went to, and your favorite flavor of ice cream.” He smiled, most likely with the knowledge that he had just put each and every one of them on the spot with a ridiculous ice breaker question. 

Alex listened with split attention to the first few, mind still on others matters from his work day. He found his focus snap back to the group when he realized a familiar voice was speaking. “... and my favorite flavor of ice cream is probably Phish Food from Ben and Jerry’s.” He watched as the next intern began to speak, listing off their own answers. When they finally finished their introductions, Washington released them all to drink and mingle. As a few of the interns at his table started talking about the latest episode of some TV show he hadn’t watched, Alex glanced around the room. As he turned in his chair he came face to face with John Laurens. 

“Hey,” he said, still only half turned in his chair. “So, Phish Food, huh?”

“Yeah, you ever had it? It’s really good.”

“Nope. Don’t tend to buy a lot of unnecessarily overpriced ice cream. I’d rather just go to a normal ice cream stand.”

John snorted a quiet laugh. “Okay, so what’s your favorite flavor?” 

“Cookie dough. It’s a classic, but still amazing. Not too simple, not too complex. Good no matter what brand you buy it from.”

“Cookie dough is good, I’ll give you that. Phish Food is better though.”

Alex finally shifted his chair around so he could face John properly. “As long as you’re okay with the fact that you’re wrong,” he said with a shrug. As the group behind him laughed at something he leaned a little closer so he could hear John better, their arms accidentally brushing together as he did so. “So, how was the rest of your first day? Any highlights?”

“We had free bagels this morning.”

“From?”

“Best Bagel?” He phrased it as a question, as if unsure of the name. 

“Oh, nice! They’re actually good!”

“Glad to have your approval on something,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. He leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his beer. His sleeves were rolled up, and Alex eyed the muscles along his forearm as he moved. 

He lost his concentration for a moment and accidentally let the conversation pause for a beat too long. He fumbled for words for a second, watching John put his beer back down on the table, tilting his head to the side a bit as he looked back at Alex. “Uh, yeah. Well,” he said, pausing again and growing frustrated with himself. He never usually had a problem finding words. “How are the other interns?” Easy topic. He figured it couldn’t hurt to change the subject. 

“They’re good.” He took another sip, glancing back at his own table for a quick moment. “Haven’t had too much time to get to know people yet. Only had about half an hour at lunch, and besides that we’ve been in meetings all day.” He punctuated the sentence with a shrug.

Alex became aware that he was monopolizing John’s time. He should probably be connecting with the other new hires. Learning about the rest of the people he’d be going through orientation with. He considered, briefly, allowing John to go back to the conversation at his table, but something stopped him. A voice inside his head? No. More of a magnetic pull. A force. Some inexplicable desire to keep this going as long as he possibly could. He grabbed his own beer from the table and took a long drink before asking, “Are you doing anything after this?” 

It was only a short moment, only the time it took to take a deep breath. But it felt like an eternity. It felt as if the whole world stopped turning, and everything and everyone was just waiting for John to answer. “Did you have something in mind?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned into porn very fast! Enjoy!

They got back to Alex’s apartment around eleven. Hours had gone by as they talked and flirted their way through a few drinks at a quiet bar half a mile from the office. The night was filled with a soft electricity, buzzing just beneath the surface until the moment Alex had asked, “Do you want to head back to my place?” After that moment everything moved quickly. Tab paid, two subway lines, and a short walk in the stale city heat before finally swiping into the building. The elevators, constantly under renovation, took too long. After about thirty seconds, Alex suggested they take the stairs instead, too impatient to let fate decide how much longer he’d have to wait. John smiled and opened the door to the stairwell for him. 

Five flights of stairs later, Alex was unlocking the door, leading them into his studio. A brief flash of insecurity hit him as John looked around. He was aware he didn’t have the same background as most of the people he worked with. No family connections or trust fund. No childhood bolstered by wealth. No safety net besides the meager savings account he had managed to scrape up thus far. His apartment wasn’t much. One room with off-white walls. Furniture he had found at thrift stores and online free and for sale pages. He hadn’t had the chance to buy a kitchen table yet. The three bookshelves lining one wall had been a greater priority. But as quick as the insecurity hit it was gone because John leaned over, put one hand behind his neck, and pulled him in until their lips were on each other. That electric feeling that had been brewing the whole night was full force now, no longer subdued but unleashed, sparks racing underneath their skin so powerful it almost hurt. Alex kissed him back, pushing closer with a little more force, breathing him in like a breath of fresh air. He bit at John’s lower lip, eliciting a moan, and he used the moment of surprise to push him back against the door, closing any remaining gap between the two of them, his body pressed up against him, all warmth and energy and breathlessness. He felt John smile against his lips. One hand dropped to his waist, and he gasped as his hand made its way under his shirt, fingers brushing against his bare skin. “Fuck,” he breathed, feeling himself getting hard. He pressed up against John’s thigh, the pressure giving him momentary relief, and heard a quiet moan in response as they deepened the kiss. More tongue and force now, the world narrowed down to this moment, this action. There was nothing else. Only the feeling of skin on skin and the heat emanating from John’s body as tugged insistently at Alex’s hair, making a short noise into the kiss as Alex ran one hand up his side, catching the fabric of his shirt as he did so. Felt the hard muscle underneath, brushed fingers over his abs and pressed against him more insistently. He bit his lip as he pulled away from John’s mouth and allowed himself a moment to take everything in. His lips, slightly swollen and red. Face flushed. Curls wild and messed up from being pressed against the door. The feeling of how absolutely perfect this all felt. And then, after he had a moment to process all that, “Take off your shirt.” 

John complied, undoing buttons hastily, his fingers fumbling a bit around the last few, but finally dropping his shirt to the floor. He looked self conscious at first, which Alex thought was ridiculous. How could anyone have a body like that and feel self conscious? Still, not wanting to make him feel awkward, he took off his own shirt, and offered his hand. “Shall we take this to the bedroom?” He motioned towards the opposite corner of the room where his bed was sectioned off by nothing but a set of shelves. 

John laughed, allowing himself to be led over to the bed. “I like your place,” he said casually as they walked. Unsure if he was joking, Alex gave him a skeptical look. “No, really. I do. It’s very…”

“Small?”

“No,” John said insistently, rolling his eyes at the comment. “I’m trying to think of the right word, just give me a second. Intimate maybe? I don’t know. I like that the first thing I see when I walk in is all your books. And I like how much you’ve done with a small amount of space. And I like that your desk is tidy even if it’s cluttered with a million things.” He paused as they reached the bed and sat down at the edge of it. “I grew up around a bunch of people with beautiful houses, but none of them felt like they belonged to the people who lived there. Do you know what I mean?” 

“No,” Alex teased with a grin. 

“I like that you invited me back here, and that I get to see more of who you are.”

Alex felt his heart skip a beat, and before he could think too much into that, he grabbed John’s face and pulled him in, began kissing him again, and John kissed him back easily. After a few minutes, Alex tugged him down onto the bed, allowing John to lean over him, one arm holding his body weight and the other pressed to the side of his face. Leaning up, he kissed the side of his mouth, his jawline, down the curve of his neck. Relished in the groan that slipped past his lips as he sucked at his skin. Then, suddenly, John pushed himself up higher, causing Alex to lose his balance and fall back against the sheets with little grace. 

“Sorry. Don’t give me any hickeys.” He rubbed at his neck. “I have my second day at a new job tomorrow, and I’d prefer not to get a reputation this early on.”

Alex laughed, fingers trailing along his chest absentmindedly. “Don’t want to be the office slut?” 

“Not particularly. Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “So you’re not the type of guy who goes back to someone’s apartment on the first date?”

John lowered himself back down, coaxing Alex into another kiss. “You’re a bit of an ass, you know that?” 

Alex smirked. “Yeah, I’ve been told. Luckily for me,” he said, biting John’s lip. “You seem to be into that.” 

“I’m into you,” he corrected, bringing one hand down to brush against his hips, moving his fingers slowly down until he reached the bulge in his pants. 

“Fuck, John.” He lifted his hips, chasing the touch, and watched John smile down at him. 

“Do you like that?” He brushed his fingers over Alex’s cock again, deliberately teasing him. 

“Yes.” He moved his own hand down to undo his fly, but he was batted away. John opting to do it himself, and the contact was almost too much. Only thin cotton between them now. “Shit, please. Just touch me.”

“Mm okay. If you insist.” He increased the pressure, fingers pressing through his boxers and giving more friction now. Alex bucked up into his hand, frustrated at the slow pace. He wanted more. He suddenly pushed himself up, the urge to maintain control overpowering how nice it felt to lie back with John’s hand on his dick. 

“You still have your pants on.” It was more of a suggestion than a statement, and John took the hint easily enough, sliding them off and dropping them unceremoniously to the floor. “I want to see all of you,” Alex said pointedly, eyeing the boxer briefs stretched tight over him. 

John blushed, just slightly but enough for it to be noticeable, and stood up, taking off his underwear as well. He stretched for a moment, freckled skin illuminated in the glow from the window that was nine tenths city lamps and the glare from other buildings with the remainder the tiny bit of moonlight that was able to reach them through the light pollution and buildings.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Alex sighed, sitting on the bed still and watching him with the kind of captivation that was normally reserved for particularly good movies or works of art. “I could look at you all day.”

“You’d get bored,” John countered. “I’ve learned enough today to know you couldn’t sit still without doing something for more than ten minutes.”

“I never said I wouldn’t be doing anything.” Alex got onto his knees, adjusting himself so he was at the edge of the bed, as close to John as he could manage. “Come here.” John obeyed, stepping closer, and once he was within reach Alex leaned forward, kissing the top of his hip. John groaned softly, and Alex smiled as his dick twitched the tiniest bit. 

Alex kissed lower, making his way down to the tops of his thighs, then working his way back up, encouraged by the quiet but insistent noises John was making. He stopped as his lips got dangerously close to John’s cock. “Can I?” he asked, looking up through his lashes and licking his lips. And the way John moaned “yes” made him want to capture that moment and store it in his memory for as long as he lived. 

He started slow. Ran his tongue around the head, then slowly down and back up his length. Took his time getting him nice and wet before finally taking John into his mouth. When he had him in as far as he could comfortably go, he glanced up, making eye contact and eliciting another moan. “Shit, Alex.” He swallowed around him, enjoying the feeling of control, the praise, the knowledge he was making John unravel. “That feels so,” he cut himself off with another bitten off groan. “So damn good.” Alex sped up the pace, working his cock in his mouth until John’s words started becoming unintelligible. He waited until he was sure the tipping point was close, almost there, and then pulled off, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. John couldn’t help the low, frustrated whine that followed.

“Not yet,” Alex said with a self-satisfied smile, feeling sure John wouldn’t be taking his sweet time now. “Touch me.” 

“Gladly,” John practically growled as he fell back onto the bed, shoving Alex down onto the mattress and reaching past the elastic of his underwear for his cock. Alex gasped, his touch rough and insistent, grasping him and quickly getting to work, moving over him with determination. He leaned down, kissing at Alex’s neck and collarbone, and feeling him arch up into the touch. Bit down at the skin on Alex’s chest, sucked a dark circle. 

“I thought,” Alex started, finding himself slightly breathless and bucking his hips up. “No hickies?” 

“Never said I wouldn’t be giving you any.” John arched an eyebrow at him before sucking another into his skin. “No one can see these anyway,” he continued, lips brushing against flesh as he spoke. 

“Mmm yeah. Good point.” He let his eyes close, allowing himself to feel John’s hand on his dick and his lips on his chest. Everything melting into one pulsing feeling underneath his skin, thrumming through his veins. “John?” 

John slowed, lifting his head. “Yeah?” 

“Do you want to…?” He couldn’t manage the rest of the question, his mind going blank, his desire too much, and he simply shifted his hips up again. But John didn’t need him to. Was able to fill in the blanks easily. 

“Yeah? You sure?” Alex could hear the anticipation in his voice, and it pushed him even closer to the edge. 

“Absolutely.”

“Do you have-?”

“Desk drawer.”

John got up, and Alex felt his absence immensely for the next few seconds, wanting nothing more than that closeness. In a beat he was back, lube in hand and condom on, and Alex bit his lip to keep from saying anything, sure he wouldn’t be able to form a coherent thought. John crawled over to where he was still lying, tracing one hand up his thigh, brushing fingers along his side. Pulled his boxers off and threw them to the ground. He took his other hand and guided Alex’s legs apart. Poured lube onto his index finger and pressed slowly into him. 

“Fuck,” Alex groaned, stretching out the word as he adjusted. 

“Is this okay?”

He nodded and bit his lip before responding. “Feels good. Keep going.” And it did. The movement inside of him, the heat, all coiling up in his groin. After a minute John added a second finger, stretching and moving them as Alex writhed underneath him. After a few more minutes of this Alex leaned up on his elbows. “Want you.” He was aware his voice was taking on a whine, but he couldn’t find it in him to control it. Couldn’t find the ability to care as John locked eyes with him. 

“You sure? I could add another-”

“No. I want you now, John. Please.” In a more patient state of mind he might appreciate the concern. Might find it sweet that John was being so considerate of his comfort. But right now all he wanted was to feel that dick inside of him. He blinked a couple of times, pleading with his eyes, and let out a sharp breath as he pulled out. Watched as John slicked his own cock with lube, the moment lasting too long as he screwed the cap back on. He let out a quiet whine, wiggling his hips on the mattress as he waited. “Come back,” he said, half teasing half serious, turning his head to the side to watch as he put the bottle back down on the nightstand and made his way over to the middle of the mattress again. Leaned down and kissed Alex hard, fingers pressed into his skin. “How do you want me?” Alex asked, trying to adopt a sultry tone as he pulled back from the kiss. 

John paused for a moment, considering. “All fours?” Alex scrambled to comply, flipping over and getting into position. Jumped the tiniest bit in surprise when he felt John’s hand on his ass, gently squeezing the flesh there, then moaned in encouragement. “God, you’re beautiful.” Alex ducked his head at the compliment, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. “Not just right now. Earlier, at the bar. At work. I couldn’t help staring at you. I was worried you were going to think I was a creep.”

Alex laughed at how absurd that sounded. As if he’d ever have a problem with someone that attractive staring at him. “And yet, here you are.” He felt John start to line up, and he dropped down onto his forearms to give him a better angle. 

“Don’t know how I got so lucky.” Alex was trying to form some witty response to that, but his thoughts were cut off by the feeling of John’s cock, slowly pressing into him, his muscles stretching to accommodate. Feelings of discomfort mixed with bubbling pleasure. All he could manage was a low groan, gripping his fingers into the sheets and biting at his lip. John got about halfway in before pausing to let him adjust. 

After a few breaths, he started to grow impatient once again, his muscles relaxing into it and nothing left but desire. “Fuck John, more.” He pressed back a little to demonstrate what he wanted, and John gripped his hips, controlling the speed as he pressed the rest of the way in, a little bit faster this time. Alex gave a quiet moan as John was finally fully seated inside him.

“You feel so good,” he said, bringing one hand up to push the hair out of his face. “So damn good, Alex.” 

“Then fuck me like you mean it,” he growled, glancing behind him.

John drew back, and this time thrust back into him all at one, the force of it knocking Alex into the mattress. He gasped in pleasure, tightening around his dick before he pulled back once again, setting a pace that was consistently picking up speed. A siren sounded from outside his building, the noise coming in through the cracked window and quickly speeding past, reminding him briefly that the rest of the world was still going on around them. How could people still be going about their lives out there when the world had completely stopped spinning? Everything was frozen into this one perfect moment and yet, somehow, time was still slipping past. His mind was blissfully cleared again with the help of a particularly hard thrust from John, and he shoved his face into the pillow below him to stop from yelling out. He shifted his hips, just a little, and suddenly groaned into the cotton beneath him as sparks lit behind his eyelids. “Right there, John! Fuck, right there!” John dug his nails into the skin at his hips, and the pain tipped him closer to the edge, all the muscles in his body feeling tight, coiled, buzzing with so much energy just waiting to burst. Every movement was wonderful fire, and he could feel John’s movements getting more desperate. “Touch me. Please touch me,” he practically begged, worried his words would get lost, mixed in with the sounds of the bed moving and the gasping and panting that were all nearing a crescendo. But John did hear him, reached around, grabbing his cock, and with only a few strokes Alex felt his orgasm cresting over him, his body lit with electricity, every thrust John made another beat of pleasure in an absolute orchestra of ecstasy. He was so overtaken with his own orgasm that he barely felt John pressing in as far as he could while he emptied into him, Alex’s name on his lips. 

The two of them laid on the bed, John snuggled under Alex’s arm, cleaned off and exhausted. Alex leaned in, kissed the back of his neck and sighed lightly, contentment strumming through his veins. This would probably have repercussions in the weeks to come, but for now, together on his bed with the gentle summer breeze on their bare skin, nothing could ruin how perfect it all felt. 

“Alex?” John asked, his voice already coated with a layer of sleep. 

“Yeah?” He smiled, unable to do anything else. Smiling just felt right. 

“Are you doing anything tomorrow night?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a comment and kudos if you liked it :)


	3. Chapter 3

It had been one month. A month of discretely leaving the office together at the end of the day. A month of subtle glances across the room. A month of secretly texting things they couldn’t say out loud during the workday. A month of lowkey dates just far enough outside of the radius of their office to feel sure they wouldn’t be seen by someone. A month of getting to know one another, physically and emotionally. Learning each other’s habits, interests, ambitions. Only a month, but somehow it felt like they had known each other so much longer. 

No one at the office knew that they were seeing each other, but that didn’t mean they never talked at work. After all, the groups of interns all sat close to one another. Social butterfly that he was, Alex talked to everyone. In all honesty, it would have seemed more suspicious if he and John never talked. 

So, it was one month from the first day they met, and Alex and John were sitting across from each other at one of the small round tables in the office kitchen. It was a little late for lunch, so the area was empty save for the two of them. Alex leaning forward a little on his elbows as his voice grew in volume subconsciously, half eaten box of takeout pushed to the side. 

“Like, I want all of these social programs as much as the next person. Well, as much as the next person making less than a six figure salary,” he amended. “But you can’t just ignore the economic implications of trying to build them out overnight. None of it exists in a vacuum, you know? You try to switch the system too soon and then you have jobs that are affected, and then you have people that are angry at _that_ , and then before you know it you have people convinced that this thing that’s supposed to be _good_ for them is actually worse than the system that was in place before because the roll out of it was so shitty. And we have politicians out there who _understand_ that. But people are blind to the reasoning behind all of it and just get mad at them because they want to do it the right way rather than make empty promises that they’ll have everything magically fixed in less than a year. Like, goddamn. It’s not that hard to understand.”

John pushed his food back towards him as he finished up his rambling train of thought. “Your lunch is going to get cold.” He waited for Alex to take a bite before continuing. “But yeah, you’re right. I don’t know. I think people still have a right to be angry that it’s not happening fast enough. Especially with things like healthcare. People are dying in the meantime because they can’t afford the treatments they need. I can get why they would be upset about how slow the change is.”

Alex rested his fork in his rice, leaning it against the side of the container. “Yeah, but the consequences of rolling it out too fast are just going to make those issues worse for them.”

“Not everyone has the privilege of thinking ten steps ahead, Alex. For someone who might die in three months if they can’t afford a necessary surgery, a messy start to those policy changes are more beneficial than a more well-thought out plan that takes two years or longer to actually go into effect.”

“Yeah.” He picked up his fork again, dragging it through his food without actually taking a bite. “I guess. The point still stands though. It’s about doing the best you can with what you’ve got for the most people. I mean, you can’t ever make changes that are going to please everybody. That’s just not realistic.”

“I never said I disagreed with you,” John pointed out, amused at how defensive he could get over the smallest criticism. “But you’re being dismissive. You get so into your own argument you don’t realize the implications of your tone on a potential audience. You have to think through the other side. Understand where they’re coming from instead of just assuming they’re not as smart as you.”

He looked like he wanted to argue that last part, but took a bite instead, using the pause to think through John’s words more carefully. He finally swallowed, acquiescing. “You’re right. Yeah. I can see what you’re saying.” He took another bite, starting to scrape the bottom of the container. “See, this is why I like you. Uh, like talking with you I mean. You’re smart enough to actually keep up.”

John laughed a little, putting his fork and used napkin into his own takeout bag, making it easier to throw away. “You’ve got such a big head.” Alex raised his eyebrows, so he got up to throw away his trash before he had the chance to make some innuendo out of that. When he got back to the table, Alex was just finishing up his own food, still chewing as John grabbed the box with his fork out from under him, piling the rest of his trash into it as well to throw it out. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Alex said, hand in front of his mouth. 

“I’m already up,” John pointed out, his tone casual as he crossed the room a second time. 

“Thanks,” Alex said as he returned a moment later. 

“So, any plans after work?”

“John, we have that happy hour today. You got the calendar invite.”

“What? No I didn’t.”

“I’m looking at the event right now, and you RSVPed ‘yes’,” he said, holding out his phone with his calendar app pulled up on the screen. 

“Shit. Okay, so we’re going to that I guess.”

“Free alcohol,” he said, resting his head in one hand. “Don’t act like it’s such a chore.”

“I’d rather be doing something else.”

He looked around to make sure they were still alone. “Cute. You’re gonna make me blush, but even if _you_ didn’t agree to going, I was going to go anyway.”

“We could blow it off.” He gave him a suggestive smile, still standing, hair falling in his eyes as he looked down at Alex. 

“No.” He pushed his chair back, stretching his back as he stood. “It’s once a week, and as much as I like the sound of you and the word “blow” in the same sentence, I’m not ditching. You’ll live.”

FIve o’clock rolled around, and Alex’s desk neighbor, Will, turned in his chair to get his attention. “You coming out to the bar? I think people are heading over in a few.”

“Yeah,” he responded, not pulling his eyes away from his screen. “I’m just in the middle of something. Shouldn’t take too long. You can leave without me, I’ll meet you guys over there.”

“You sure?”

He waved him off. “Yeah, it’s fine. Washington just passed this onto me like an hour ago. I just want to finish it up before I leave.”

Will shrugged, said goodbye and packed up his stuff, meeting some of the other interns who were already mingling by the doors. 

It didn’t take more than five minutes before John came over. Sat in Will’s empty chair, his bag plopped down on the floor next to him. “What are you doing?” 

“Working.”

“I can see that. What are you working _on_?”

“Something that would go a lot quicker if people didn’t keep distracting me.” In spite of his grumbling he turned to face John. “Basically just checking over other people’s work. Needs to go out tonight, so of course I got it last minute.”

“Oh. If it’s just checking over the work it shouldn’t be too bad though, right?”

“That’d be true if they did everything correctly the first time. Unfortunately…” He glanced back at his screen, giving it a scathing look. He hoped somehow the original author of the document could feel his irritation telepathically. 

“Can I help?” A loud burst of laughter came from the group by the door. As they talked, everyone seemed to be gathering their things, about to leave. 

“Sorry, it’s a one man job.” That wasn’t exactly true, but the time it would take to explain his process would just throw him off anyway, and no matter how much he trusted John he wasn’t about to put his name on something someone else did. He looked back towards the rest of the interns. “Go on ahead. I’ll meet you there.”

He looked like he was about to protest, so Alex cut him off before he could start. “Save me a seat, okay? I’ll text you when I’m heading over, and you can put in my drink order so I’m not waiting forever when I get there and the happy hour rush is in full swing. Fucking midtown, always packed. I won’t be too long, promise.”

John looked a little disappointed, but did as he said. Grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, hurrying to catch up with the rest of them as they left. With everyone else finally gone, a peaceful silence fell over the office. Alex turned his attention back to the screen, forcing himself to focus so he could submit everything and head out. The motivation to relax and drink with all of his work friends not quite as strong as his motivation to see one particular coworker once he was finished.

The bar, a well-frequented pub style place one block over from the office, was packed when Alex finally got there. He made his way across the main seating area, turning to the side and shuffling awkwardly to get past tables and servers. He spotted his party fairly easily, all of them seated around a long booth in the back corner. Grateful to see John had saved a seat on the end so he wouldn’t have to not-so-subtly ask everyone to get up if they wanted to sit together. As he took his spot, the rest of the group paused mid-conversation to greet him, John wordlessly pushing the rum and coke he had ordered in front of him. 

“Thanks.” He took a sip, relieved at the slight burn of the alcohol in his throat after a long day. The strong drinks were just one of a handful of reasons they kept coming back to this place. He felt John place a hand on his thigh under the table. His face started heating up, and he couldn’t exactly figure out why that simple action was affecting him so much. No one could see. It was perfectly innocent. Well it was until he started to move his fingers up higher… 

Alex shifted away from the touch, pulling out his phone. Sent off a quick text telling him to knock it off. They were in public for christ sake. He put the phone back down on the table and turned to talk with another coworker, leaning forward a little to hear better. He could feel the phone vibrate with a response near where his hand was resting, but ignored it. Focused on the conversation between a few of them to his right, talking about some new movie that was coming out. Managed a few minutes before he felt his phone go off again. He glanced down at it, but didn’t unlock the screen, drawn back into the conversation by a question directed at him. A minute later he felt John’s hand, back on his leg. To his credit, he was being very discrete about it. With the others distracted by a side conversation, he picked up his phone. 

\-- John: They can’t see. Come on, it’s not that bad  
\-- John: I’m gonna take your silence as “okay fine go ahead”

Alex could see him watching out of his peripheral vision, smug expression on his face as he saw him reading the texts. 

\-- Alex: You’re the worst. Just wait like an hour. Then you can do whatever you want.  
\-- John: Whatever I want? 

Alex rolled his eyes, put his phone back into his pocket. Drained the rest of his drink in one smooth motion as the server came around and asked for another before she could head back towards the bar. 

“You were working on that thing for Washington for a while,” John commented aloud. “I think everyone got through the first round before you even showed up.” 

“Yeah, what did he have you doing this time?” Ben asked from his right, turning to face the two of them. 

“Just looking over some stuff before it went out. Policy brief,” he added for clarification.

“Looking over some stuff,” John repeated, amused. “From the sound of it, you were completely rewriting it.”

“If you want something done right…” The others laughed, nodding along in agreement. 

“You need a raise.” Ben said, finishing off his own drink. “Or a promotion to a real position.I swear, you’re there after the rest of us leave every single day.”

“Maybe not after all of us leave. John usually stays late too, don’t you John?” James asked from a couple of seats down. 

“Yeah,” he answered, glancing down at his hands with just a tinge of nervous energy. “I focus better in the evening, so I like to stay after sometimes.” Shrugged, hoping it came off as casual as he was going for. Was grateful when they switched topics. Someone asking about someone else’s girlfriend. He took a sip of his beer, absentmindedly running his thumb back and forth over the material of Alex’s slacks. 

Distracted by the movement even more than the presence of his hand on his thigh in the first place, Alex moved his hand from its spot next to him on the worn faux leather of the booth seat, laying it over John’s and holding him still, maintaining a carefully neutral expression the whole time, keeping his gaze on the other interns who were still talking. He was so focused on trying to look like he was paying attention, that he didn’t realize their last question had been directed towards him. 

“Sorry, I was thinking about an issue with an email that was sent out earlier. Might have to fix that tonight,” he lied, hoping he had thrown in enough detail that it wasn’t obvious he was bullshitting them. “What’d you say?”

“We were asking if you’ve been seeing anyone lately?” Will supplied. “There was that one girl a couple of months ago, but you’ve been suspiciously quiet since then.”

“I’ve been busy,” he said a little defensively. Looked down at the table and noticed that the server had come back with his drink at some point. 

“Never stopped you before,” Ben said with a smirk. “Come on, you haven’t seen _anyone_? Not even just a hookup? That’s not like you.”

“This is a company funded happy hour,” he complained. “You’re really going to pester me about my sex life?”

“None of the bosses are here,” John said with a shrug. Alex glanced sideways at him, trying to figure out exactly how much to read into that. 

“Okay, fine. Yeah I’ve been seeing someone. Didn’t want to tell you guys because I know how annoying you can get about things like this, and I wanted to live in peace for a while longer.”

A general noise of celebration rose up around the table now that they had finally gotten an answer. “And?” Ben prompted. “How is she?” 

“He,” Alex corrected. “And good. Real good,” he added with a smirk. “It’s been fun.”

“Come on, give us more than that.” James was leaning in more now, waiting on details. 

Alex glanced over to see John watching with a shit eating grin, clearly enjoying this more than he should have been. Watching Alex talk in circles to avoid saying anything incriminating.

He decided if John thought it was that funny he might as well lean into it. “Great body. The sex is amazing,” he enthused, just a little over the top. “I wasn’t sure if he’d any good at it at first. Seemed like he’d be a little… inexperienced. You know how some people just give off that vibe?” He forced himself not to break as the urge to laugh hit. “But he’s either had a lot of practice, or he’s just a real natural at sucking dick.”

Another round of laughter ripped through the group, and he felt John’s fingers dig into his thigh. Resisted the urge to turn and check if he was blushing. 

Will leaned in closer, on the other side of John, to speak more directly to Alex. “Is he as kinky as the last girl you were seeing? You know, the bondage and stuff?” 

“Remains to be seen,” Alex said, unable not to laugh now, the attention and the buzz of the alcohol starting to go to his head. “Hasn’t come up yet. If I had to guess though…” He paused, staring off into the distance as if he were thinking it through. “Yeah, I could see it.” 

The rest of them broke into laughter again. As their server passed, John leaned over to get her attention, politely ordered another drink, a few sips still left in the bottle in front of him. 

Alex felt his hand leave his thigh briefly. Glanced over to see John typing on his phone. A buzz in his pocket a minute later. 

\-- John: This is my last drink. Then we’re leaving okay?

Alex felt a stab of anxiety, worried for a brief moment that he had taken it a step too far, but then John’s hand was back on his leg, firm, almost possessive presence. 

\-- Alex: You good if I get one more too?

He picked up his phone as it buzzed on the table and typed out the response one-handed. 

\-- John: Sure, just don’t take too long  
\-- Alex: Or else what? ;)  
\-- John: You still have that rope in your apartment? I’m sure I could figure something out

As Alex read the response, John squeezed his thigh, a little rougher than he had been up until that point. He felt his heart jump in his chest, the action combined with the implications of the text message stirring up something inside of him. Something that he should probably force back down because they were still at a bar with their coworkers, and he would need to stand up eventually. 

\-- Alex: I’ll be quick but if you could not give me a hard on while we’re here with everyone else, that’d be good

He put his phone back in his pocket, turned back to the group, trying to follow along with whatever topic they had moved onto. Heard John snort a short breath of laughter next to him as he read the response. “What’s so funny, John?” Will asked, looking over at the noise. John at least had the forethought to have his screen tilted the other way. 

“Just texting my sister,” he said, earning a smirk from Alex. 

“What’d she say?” he asked, unable to keep the smug grin from his face. 

John looked like he wanted to shove him, but just put his phone away so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact with anyone as he answered. “Oh, just family shit. Too hard to explain without context.” He finished off his beer, a little quicker than the previous rounds, and pulled out his wallet. Dropped some money on the table for a tip. “I’ve got to head out.” There was a communal noise of protest from the rest of the table, but he waved them off. “Seriously. I promised my dad I’d call him before it got too late, and I’m not doing that from a bar,” he lied. “I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”

As they all waved goodbye, Alex got up, letting him out of the booth and taking the moment to appreciate the fit of his pants over his ass when he moved, how the fabric hugged him just right. When he was halfway across the room, he sat down again, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. 

\-- John: Finish your drink and meet me at the subway stop.

Alex stared at his screen for a beat, trying to figure out if John had left out information accidentally, or if he was just a little too drunk to remember if they had discussed it earlier in the day. 

\-- Alex: We going to your place or mine? 

He watched as the three little dots blinked back at him, taking longer than it would if John was just typing the answer. Alex was pretty sure he hadn’t actually decided on that and was now mulling over the options. John’s place was closer, but also in a neighborhood where a decent number of their coworkers lived close by. Higher chance of someone seeing them together. As cramped as Alex’s apartment was, they had the benefit of relative anonymity there. 

\-- John: Your place.  
\-- Alex: Okay. Meet me at 50th. I know it’s a longer walk but Columbus Circles gonna be a nightmare this time of day and I’d rather get on before that

He smiled to himself, pleased. Put his phone back down and took a longer sip of his rum and coke, the drink seeming to get stronger as he got closer to the bottom. He swirled it with his straw, trying to mix everything together again. He had lost track of the conversation around him while texting, so he put his drink down and settled back in, listening to the back and forth for a minute before joining in himself. He felt his phone buzz a few more times while he finished his own drink and talked for a little longer, ignoring it until he finally got to the bottom of his glass. He threw down his own tip, oblivious to the fact that John had left enough for both of them. He pulled out his phone as he stepped out into the city, sun sitting low in the sky and the noises of just past rush hour traffic still obnoxiously loud all around. Read through the messages as he stopped at the corner, waiting for the light, too distracted to notice the break in traffic while a few other people crossed. 

\-- John: I’m here.  
\-- John: Hurry up.  
\-- John: You said you’d be quick. 

He was still grinning down at his screen as the light changed, belatedly looking up and crossing the street as people all around him shoved past. He shifted his bag across his shoulder and picked up the pace, impatient and eager to finally get to the part of the day he’d been craving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha okay so this was originally gonna be a one shot but i keep coming back to it
> 
> i've got a couple more chapters in the works already
> 
> thanks to everyone who's commented so far! this has gotten such a good response and i'm so grateful to all of you! 
> 
> feel free to come talk to me on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls for anything writing related or not writing related. i love talking to people.


	4. Chapter 4

John was waiting outside the subway station, loitering a few feet from the entrance and watching people filter out of Applebees. He glanced up and moved to the side as a group of tourists passed and spotted Alex, waved impatiently, leaning further to the side so he could be seen around the crowd of people. Alex laughed a little, finding the mix between eagerness and irritation endearing. Hopped down from the curb to get around everyone easier, stepping back up onto the sidewalk once he was on the other side of the subway entrance.

John held out his hand, and Alex gladly accepted it, allowing himself to be pulled down the steps leading underground. “You took so long” he complained, letting go of Alex only briefly to swipe through the turnstile.

Alex waited to respond until he had crossed over to the other side as well, holding John’s hand again as soon as he was through. “It was only like ten minutes.” When John didn’t say anything, he continued. “I didn’t want to be suspicious. You wouldn’t have wanted me to get up right after you left, right?”

John gave a frustrated sigh, rolling his neck to the side and glancing away. “No. You’re right.” As they walked down the platform, he glanced down at Alex then away again. “You did say you’d hurry though. You know, before when we were at the bar. So those texts still stand.”

“Huh?” Alex wasn’t quite following his disjointed train of thought. He broke his hand away from John’s, pulling out his phone as they waited for their train, reading over the conversation again. “What do you mean?”

John shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down the tunnel as he spoke. “You know. About the rope.” His face started to turn a little red at the prospect of having to explain himself, and he purposely kept it turned the other way.

“Yeah?” Alex felt the grin stretch across his face uncontrollably. “Shit, John. I was kidding earlier, but if you’re serious… yeah I’ve got some back at my apartment.” John was still very purposefully looking away. “Damn. Is that why you’ve been so impatient?” He shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Didn’t know you were into that.”

He had barely gotten the words out when John turned back around suddenly, grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into a rough, heated kiss. He made a small noise of surprise, but eased into it as John shoved his tongue past his lips, deepening the connection and taking a few steps until Alex was backed up against the nearest support pillar. The woman who had been standing about a foot away looked up at them from her phone before walking a little further down the platform. As John broke the kiss, biting at his lower lip before pulling away, Alex felt absolutely giddy. The rush of knowing someone as _hot_ as John just made out with him on the subway platform filling his whole body with a pleasant buzz of self-satisfaction. Before he could think of anything clever to say, the train came barreling down the tunneling, stale, hot air blowing into their faces, coming to an abrupt stop in front of them. Alex bit his lower lip, still unable to stop the grin on his face, and dragged John into the nearest car, pulling him down to sit in two empty seats, positioning himself close enough that he was practically in his lap.

“The ride to your place is too long,” John complained, allowing Alex to pull his hand into his lap, playing with fingers.

“Yeah?” Alex asked, pulling his hand a little further, inching it higher up his thigh. “Does that you mean you want to…?” He pulled his bag up so it was resting on his legs, blocking their hands from view and letting the rest of the question speak for itself.

“No.” John yanked his hand away with a roll of his eyes, earning a quiet, displeased huff from Alex. “I’m not getting arrested for indecent exposure.”

Alex made a face. “That’s not the right word. Exposure. No one would be _exposed_ per se.”

“Whatever. We’re not doing it.” He had his hands in his own lap now, both of them clasped together as if he didn’t know what else to do with them.

“Yeah, I bet that’d be a real trainwreck. I can see the headlines now: Senator Henry Laurens’ son arrested for handjob on public transit.” He held his hands out in front of him as if framing the headline on an invisible newspaper.

“If you’re trying to turn me on, you’re doing a terrible job.”

“Right, right.” He lowered his voice as the doors opened again and the amount of people in their car suddenly doubled, a few of them filling the seats immediately surrounding them. “Sorry about that.” He was unable to shake the line of thought regarding Senator Laurens from his mind now though, and he found himself asking the next question without thinking too much about it. “So, how did your dad react when you took this internship? The policy stances we end up working with don’t exactly line up with his voting record.”

John raised his eyebrows. “Did you look up my father’s voting record?” When Alex broke eye contact, choosing not to respond, John sighed. “Of course you did.” He sounded more exasperated than upset. “I don’t know, Alex. It wasn’t a huge deal. Neither of us wanted to make it a big thing, you know? He acknowledged it and congratulated me on the position. That was it.”

“That was it?” He sounded skeptical.

“Yes.” He was getting defensive now, his hands clenching tighter in his lap. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. I think you’ve made him out to be worse than he is in your head. It’s not like he cares that my politics don’t completely align with his on every little issue.” He stared down at his lap, gnawing doubt at his own words. “At least, not that much.”

“So, he cares a little bit?”

“Just drop it, alright?” He realized how harsh the words had sounded and glanced up at Alex, hoping he could read the desperate plea in his eyes. Begging him to just _understand_. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to–” He didn’t know how to finish that. What had he meant to do? “Sorry. I’m not mad. Promise. Can we just talk about something else?”

Alex swallowed hard, feeling like the subway car was suddenly too small, too crowded. Reached for the first topic he could think of to drag the subject back to something easy. Lighter. Anything that didn’t make him feel like this whole thing between them was more tenuous than he realized. “It’s not _that_ long of a commute by the way.” The sentence was abrupt. A disjointed grab back to a much earlier part of their conversation. Too sharp of a contrast, but he couldn’t take it back now, so he just plowed forward. “Like forty minutes including the walking times. You’re spoiled with your place. This is how the rest of the world lives.” He let his tone take a more dramatic turn, staring up at the ceiling and hoping acting just a little ridiculous would be enough to brighten the mood between them. “Sacrificing our valuable time for an affordable apartment. It’s not that bad though,” he conceded to no one in particular. “Gives me lots of time to think.”

“Really?” John had a hard time imagining Alex sitting still and thinking on the subway for over an hour each day, and the idea of it pulled his mind back towards the two of them. Here. Now. “What do you think about?”

“Okay fine, I mostly check and send emails,” he admitted with a grin, feeling the tension easing up a bit. “When I do put that shit on pause though I think about you of course. It’s been real distracting lately. You’ve got me behind on work before I even show up for the day, John.” He leaned a little more heavily against his side, letting his eyes close for just a few seconds. “I would complain, but I enjoy it too much.”

John was smiling to himself now, and Alex felt relief flood through his body at the prospect that maybe just maybe he hadn’t screwed everything up. He ran his fingers up his back, tracing them over the smooth material of his shirt. “It’s not even always dirty stuff,” he continued. “I mean, that’s a lot of it, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes I just think about getting into the office and seeing you and talking. About all the shit I’ll have to tell you about when I get the chance because it popped into my head, and you’re the first person I thought of.” He was aware he was rambling, and that he was edging into embarrassing territory, but he couldn’t bring himself to shut up. “You know, just stuff like that. You’re real distracting.”

“Mmm, you said that already.” John was still smiling, leaning a little into his touch now.

“Yeah, well, it’s true. I like this shirt by the way.” His fingers were still rubbing the material over his back and he pulled away just a bit to look at him more properly as he spoke. “It’s a good color on you. That teal-ish color.”

“Turquoise,” he corrected off-handedly.

“Whatever. Same thing.”

“No, it’s not.”

Alex pulled out his phone to try and look up if there was in fact a difference, but he had no service and put his phone back into his pocket after a few seconds of attempting to load the Google search. “Whatever,” he shrugged, not willing to completely concede the point. “It looks good on you, that’s the point I was trying to make.”

“Thanks,” John said, feeling only a little awkward as he accepted the compliment. “Turquoise is more blue-ish by the way. Teal has more green in it.”

“The fuck. Am I about to get a lesson on color theory?”

John laughed, resting one hand on his leg. “That’s not color theory. That’s just… knowing which colors are which.”

Alex brought his hand from behind John’s back to his lap, resting his own hand on top of his. “Yeah, well. I never had art classes or anything, so excuse me for not knowing what exact shade _turquoise_ is.”

“You never had art classes? Not even in high school?”

“No,” he answered, sounding just a bit defensive. “Wasn’t part of the curriculum.”

There were a few seconds of silence, neither quite sure where to go with that. Alex was almost about to point out that not _everyone_ attended some top-tier private high school where they had a full budget for the arts and computer science and fucking fencing lessons or whatever they did at those schools, but then thankfully John was speaking again before he could let any of it slip.

“You should have taken a class in college.”

“Didn’t want to embarass myself,” he answered truthfully. “Besides, you know I double-majored. I had a billion actual requirements, so it’s not like I had the time. Whatever, it’s not a big deal. So, I didn’t learn art. You didn’t learn Hebrew. That evens out.”

“You know Hebrew?” John had turned to face him now, surprised, impressed, and slightly amused.

“Yeah,” Alex said, trying to sound casual when he really wanted to brag a little. “It was a Jewish school. Everyone there learned it, it’s not a big deal.”

“You’re not Jewish.”

Alex couldn’t quite tell if that was a statement or a question. “No. The public schools where I grew up were shit. And the Catholic schools were… picky. I was able to get a scholarship to the Jewish school, so why not? Probably helped me to get into a school here in New York. Especially-” He cut himself off, another train of thought taking over, and leaned forward a little as he spoke. “Did you know how fucking difficult they make it to apply for financial aid? Like, they just really hate poor people I guess. And then there’s all the bureaucracy. It’s a fucking nightmare. Glad that shit’s behind me. But, yeah, I can’t imagine my qualifications would have looked as nice on paper if I had ended up at the local public school.”

John, unaware how to respond to all of that, backtracked a bit. “So, Hebrew. That’s three languages then?”

“Four,” Alex corrected quickly. “French too.”

“Damn. That’s a lot.”

Alex shrugged, trying to mask how happy he was that the conversation was back on track and he had the opportunity to subtly show off. “I grew up around all of it. Well, not the Hebrew. Not really. But we already got into that. You know what I’d love to do at some point?”

“What?”

“Go up to Quebec. Really throw them off when they don’t realize that someone that looks like _me_ will understand when they shit talk us because they couldn't fathom that I'd be able to understand their French as well as their English.”

John laughed, squeezing his leg. “Yeah, that’d be fun. I’d pay to see that.”

“If I ever manage to find time to take a break or something, you should come with me. We can make a whole thing out of it.” He watched John’s face carefully, pleased to see that he wasn’t freaked out by the suggestion. Just smiled and gave a small nod. He got a little caught up staring at him, watching the way his eyes crinkled at the corners.

“It’s the next stop, right?”

He actually physically shook his head to clear it, then stopped, realizing that made it seem like he was saying no. “Sorry, yeah. Yeah, it is.” The car had cleared out a good deal throughout the course of their trip, making it easier to stand and move towards the exit when they started to slow down. As the doors swung open, Alex followed John out, grabbing his hand once they were on the platform and twining their fingers together, feeling contentment mix with the heat and thick air as they headed back up onto the sidewalk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and a bigger thanks to those who leave me such kind comments! Hoping this fluff-filled fic can help distract you from all the shitty things going on in the world right now. 
> 
> Feel free to come talk to me on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls as well!


	5. Chapter 5

John dropped his bag by the door when they got to Alex’s place, kicking off his shoes and then crossing the room to the small sofa where Alex was already sitting, bag at his feet. He dropped into the seat next to him, angling for his lips as he leaned in, but Alex turned his head to the side a bit as he typed something out on his phone.

John made a muffled annoyed sound and shoved at his shoulder lightly as he kissed the side of his face instead.

“Sorry, one sec.” 

“Alex.” When he didn’t get a response, John flopped back into the cushions. He waited a couple of minutes. Watching as Alex alternated between sending messages and the app for his email. He went back and forth a few more times before John spoke again. “Alex, come on.”

“I didn’t have service on the subway,” he said distractedly, as if that actually explained anything. 

“Should I go?”

Alex put one hand on his arm without looking up, preventing him from leaving while still typing with the other. “No, stay.” He sent off another text before turning to face him. “Sorry. I didn’t see the messages until we got back because of the service. Washington needs me to go back and fix something with that brief I sent off earlier. Nothing I did wrong,” he clarified unnecessarily. He didn’t have a habit of doing things incorrectly the first time after all. “Just an update they decided to include after it was already finalized.” 

“Do it tomorrow.” John had one hand up by his face now, tracing the line of his jaw. 

“Can’t.” He was looking back at his screen now, albeit a little more distractedly than before. “Trust me,” he added emphatically. “If I could I would. I’m still not over how you pushed me up against the wall in the subway. That was hot, John.”

“It wasn’t a wall,” he teased, smiling at the memory and the fact that Alex was still talking about it. Overly pleased with himself. 

He waved off the correction. “Semantics.” He switched back and forth between the apps on his phone, rereading Washington’s message and pulling a face. “I need my laptop.” 

“Alex,” John practically whined as he leaned down and pulled his computer out of his bag. “You’ve done enough favors for him today. Tell him to ask someone else.”

“Nah, I’m the one who’s been working on it.” Reason was winning out over his desire to shove John backward onto the couch and rip off his shirt, and he hated himself for it. “It’d be even more of a shit show to pull someone else in at this point. Plus, I mean, the fact that he relies on me so much is good job security, annoying as it may be sometimes.”

“I’m dating a fucking workaholic.”

Alex paused, sufficiently distracted with his email still loading on the screen in front of him, and turned to John. “Wait, are we dating?”

John gave him an incredulous look, not realizing exactly what he had said a moment ago but also not realizing it was even a conversation they needed to have at this point. “I mean…” He fumbled, unsure how to get into the weeds of this conversation. “I guess– I don’t know. Are we? I just assumed since we’ve been going out so much and spending so much time together.” He felt his face turning red as he got the words out, worried and embarrassed that he had misinterpreted things. Had he been wrong to assume that spending every second of your free time with someone meant that you were dating?

Alex grinned, completely ignoring the vibrations of incoming text messages on his phone. “Okay, yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, we’re dating, I guess.” 

John felt a pull in his chest, triggering some full body emotion as he felt his face break into a smile. He couldn’t help but feel a little ridiculous for it. After all, nothing had fundamentally changed. But hearing those words out loud gave him the sense that suddenly nothing was impossible. He grabbed Alex’s face, pulling him closer and pressing their lips together, and this time he didn’t try to turn away. Relaxed into it, parted his mouth and groaned as John ran his tongue along his lower lip. The sensation of being here, kissing him, falling over him like waves in the ocean. Over and over again, the constant pull like the tides, always bringing him back in. He heard the phone buzz in Alex’s lap and willed him to leave it. Held on a little tighter. But then it was more sustained. A phone call, the back of his brain provided while the rest of him was more occupied. To his credit, Alex did let it go to voicemail the first time, but when it started ringing again he broke off the kiss and picked up, visibly irritated and unable to hide it completely in his voice when he spoke. 

“Hello?”

John stared, still a little dazed, and tried to make out the muffled voice from the other end of the call. 

“I know. I saw that. I–” He was clearly cut off, and he grimaced at whatever was being said. He switched his tone when he spoke again, a little more professional this time. “Yes, alright. When’s the absolute latest?” A flicker of annoyance as he listened. “I’m sorry sir, but that’s ridiculous. How the hell–” The voice on the other end was sharper now, and Alex recoiled a little in response. “Sorry. No, it’s fine, I got it. It’ll be done by then.” He moved his mouth away from the receiver and groaned quietly before pressing the phone back to his ear. “It’s really not a problem, sir. I wish they’d given us more _notice_ , but I’ll have it finished.” He rolled his eyes, grateful Washington wasn’t the type of guy to use video calls. “Yes, sir. You too.” He threw his phone back down onto the couch in disgust as the line disconnected. 

“Fuck,” he growled, his hands balled into tight fists on either side of him. “Fuck, this is so stupid.”

“What’s up?” 

“More stuff needs to be added in. And compiled into a more comprehensive document that’s being sent out tomorrow morning, so I need to finish my edits tonight. This is so fucking stupid.” 

John made a sympathetic noise, leaning back on the couch. “Yeah, it is. It’s too bad he interrupted us. I don’t know about you, but I was really enjoying myself.”

Alex smirked, already typing something out on his laptop. “Yeah? Damn. I should have told Washington to fuck off.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” He highlighted a section, then deleted it. Began typing up a new paragraph in its place. “It’s frustrating,” he said after a few moments.

“What is?”

“Having to be this _good_ at everything just to level the playing field.” He paused, rereading his last sentence. Satisfied with it, he kept typing. “Like, there’s no way I would have gotten this job in the first place if I didn’t constantly push myself to do so much more than everyone else. I didn’t have connections to put me in touch with people or college internships at political offices because my family knew someone.” He could hear how that might be taken without looking at John’s face and backtracked. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that as an attack or anything, just– It’s hard to constantly give myself a leg up when everyone else is already placed on this pedestal from the start that they didn’t even have to work for. And it’s not like I’m pissed other people have that. I _wish_ I had that. That’s the problem. I’m mad that I _don’t_ have all the shit that makes life so easy. If I had a safety net, a trust fund, parents who had my back… I don’t know. I wouldn’t be sitting here at this hour on a Thursday night doing the work that no one else wants to do just for a shot at something _more_. I’d already have something more. If I knew that slacking off for one night wouldn’t cost me some sliver of opportunity I’d be letting you fuck my brains out right now instead of bending over backwards to make this deadline work even though the people imposing it are being assholes about the whole thing. I’m not even mad at Washington,” he admitted, his voice dropping back down after letting it build up through the course of his ranting. “It’s not his fault. And I do like that he depends on me. I wasn’t joking about that. I may just be a poor kid from some island, but if I prove to them all that no one can do the work like I can, well then they’re forced to give me a shot. If I can keep convincing them for long enough, maybe I’ll get to the point where I don’t need to convince anyone anymore. They’ll all know who I am and what I can do before I even enter the room.” He let out his breath slowly, glancing back to his screen. “Shit, I need to focus.”

John watched as he tried to read the text in front of him, still a little too worked up to really be comprehending any of it. “You’re going to get to that point.” Alex turned to him, a little surprised. “There’s no ‘maybe’ about it. You’re the most dedicated person I’ve ever met, Alex. Anyone who has ever met you can see that. You’ll be bossing everyone else around in no time with a fancy title and a ridiculous salary. I know it still sucks right now, but it’ll pay off.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, adding another sentence to the document, the clicking of his keyboard cutting through the silence. He wasn’t sure whether to feel pleased or embarrassed with the praise, and decided to switch topics the easiest way he knew how. “I really am disappointed by the interruption by the way. The thought of you, me, bondage.” He motioned between the two of them with one hand. “Fucking hot.” 

“When does that have to be in by?”

“Ten,” he responded, still bitter.

“So, after ten then.”

“Hmm?” He was distracted again, adding in a new paragraph under a heavily edited section. 

“After ten we can fool around. Unless you have any objections?”

Alex felt a slight blush creeping into his face, and he tried to force it away. “Sure. Yeah. After ten. Or whenever I get this stupid thing finished.”

“Or we can get started now, if you promise to keep working.” He had lowered his voice, brushing fingers up Alex’s thigh. 

“Yeah?” There was a hitch in his voice, and he bit his lip to stop from gasping as John’s hand ran higher. 

“Yeah. Just focus on your work, Alex.” John paused for a moment, considering. “Here, turn to the side for a second.” He did as instructed, moving his laptop with him as he sat sideways on the couch, then jumped in surprise as he felt John’s arms wrap around him. He was undoing the buttons, going by feeling rather than sight so he wouldn’t get in the way of his typing. Alex sucked in a sharp breath as he tried to read over what he had just typed to make sure it made sense. Once he had the buttons all undone, he diverted Alex’s hands away from the keyboard for a quick moment, sliding the shirt off his shoulders and tossing it to the side. “That’s better.” He kissed his bare shoulder, biting down just enough to hurt a little. 

“Fuck, John,” Alex groaned, doing his best not to throw his laptop to the ground and refocus his energy on something more important. 

“Not yet,” he responded with a self satisfied smirk. 

“Not what I meant.” Alex gave a breathy laugh as he added a few more bullet points. 

John slid down from the couch onto his knees, gently repositioning Alex so he was facing forward again, his legs spread a little. Hands came to his fly, undoing it and teasing him over the fabric of his briefs. 

Alex sucked in a sharp breath, repositioning his laptop onto the arm of the couch and shifting his torso to the side so he could see the screen properly and give John better access at the same time. Tensed as one hand pushed his briefs down, freeing his cock, already getting hard from the attention. If it was hard to focus with John’s hand on him, it was nearly impossible when he felt lips, slick and soft, wrap around his dick. He moaned his name, unable to help himself as his eyes fluttered closed. 

John pulled off, one hand resting on his thigh. “Do your work,” he chided, stubbornly waiting, looking like something out of a wet dream on his knees between Alex’s spread legs, face a little flushed and staring up through his eyelashes. “If you can’t focus I’m going to stop. I’m not going to be the reason you miss the deadline.”

He groaned in frustration, turning back to the screen and blanking for a moment before he finally was able to pull his train of thought back out of the depths of his brain. After a few steady seconds of typing, John returned to his own task, licking up his cock before sinking back down. Didn’t move too much. Just waited there, occasionally bobbing his head just a tiny bit or running his tongue along the underside of his shaft. Not sucking him off, but making sure he never forgot exactly what they were doing. Alex closed his eyes, bracing himself, as he settled in for a very long and distracting night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Come chat on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Alex was known for his strong will, but even for him this was a whole new lesson in determination. Turning his attention to the words in front of him, typing line after line of edits and additions when all he wanted to do was throw himself onto the bed, let John tie him down, blow him properly or fuck him, was a herculean feat. One that he didn’t commit to without a tiny bit of regret. After about an hour, he finally finished his work. Saved the document and sent it out in an email to Washington for his final approval at 9:51. Alex figured he wouldn’t even look it over before sending it out, having become far too used to the near-perfect quality of work he produced. Maybe Washington _should_ read through it, considering all of the distractions while he worked on this particular project, but he wasn’t about to admit any of that to his boss, so he hoped for his own sake he had made no glaring errors while his brain was occupied with thoughts of John’s mouth, warm and wet and perfect on his bare skin. 

He snapped his laptop shut, dropping it onto the couch next to him aggressively, though careful enough not to break it. Still on his knees, John pulled off, sitting up and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Alex would have been more disappointed at the loss of contact if he didn’t look so damn _attractive_. Face flushed, lips still wet, eyes flickering with impatient heat. “Finally,” he commented, his voice pitched in a low growl. “I told you at the bar that I didn’t want to wait, and then you make me wait until fucking ten o’clock.”

He was pretty sure John wasn’t actually angry, and he was too turned on by the heady aggression in his voice to care to check. “Fuck,” he groaned, leaning into it when John stood up and pulled him roughly into a kiss, dragging him to his feet in the process. “I was going to say sorry,” he panted, out of breath when they broke apart. “But if this is what waiting does to you, I’ve got to say, it’s hard to feel apologetic. Fuck, John,” he continued, laughing more from the giddy feeling clouding his mind than from anything being particularly funny. “I’m still hard. Ready to go. You made sure of that. If you want to fuck, go ahead and do it. Bed, couch, wherever.”

John looked awfully tempted by the suggestion, but shook his head, tugging him by the wrist towards the bed. “No, I’m following through on that promise from earlier. Where are the ropes? Closet?” 

Alex’s eyes widened. He had momentarily forgotten about that with everything else happening. “Yeah. Closet. I can get them for you, one sec.” 

“No,” John said roughly, pushing him down onto the bed. “Stay there. Just tell me where they are.” 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He chewed at his lip, torn between furiously aroused and wanting to just get them himself for efficiency’s sake. “Should be in a box in the bottom right corner.” He took the opportunity while he was distracted to shove his pants the rest of the way off as well, tossing them somewhere on the floor.

John found it easily enough, shifting through the contents of the box and taking mental stock of the other items. Gag, harness, sex toys, paddle. Something to ask about later. He grabbed the rope and left the rest as he closed the closet door. 

“Do you know how to use that?” Alex asked, leaning up on his elbows from the center of the bed. “Like, have you ever tied anyone up?” 

“I’m good with knots. I can figure it out.”

“Good with knots,” Alex repeated as John sat down next to him on the mattress. “Don’t tell me you were a boy scout or some shit. 

“I went camping a lot,” he said defensively. 

“Yeah, that didn’t answer the question. Going to assume that means you were–” He was cut off with a sharp gasp as John yanked both of his arms up over his head, beginning to wrap the rope around his wrists. He was shocked into silence momentarily while he worked, the motion almost methodical, until his hands were bound together in a sort of modified pair of handcuffs, the excess rope lashing them to a metal bar in the headboard of his bed. He pulled at the restraints experimentally, feeling himself turn red once he realized just how securely he was trapped. “I doubt they taught you this in boy scouts,” he joked, but his voice came out breathy, almost tentative. 

John pointedly ignored the repeated references to scouts, not exactly wanting to think about childhood activities while he was doing _this_. Was far too proud to tell Alex he had looked up a few tutorials on his phone while he waited for him near the subway anyway. He gave his handiwork one last glance, trailing his eyes from bound wrists down to his forearms, biceps, tense as he strained against the rope. Farther down to his bare chest, soft skin of his stomach, the cut of lean muscles leading underneath the waistband of his boxer briefs. The outline of his cock. “Can’t believe you made me wait so long. I didn’t even want to go to the damn happy hour and then even _after_ that. God, Alex.” He hooked his fingers under the elastic and yanked his underwear down, tossing it to the ground by the foot of the bed. “Do you know how frustrating it is to wait that long? I should show you. Not let you finish until you’re desperate for it. How does that sound?” He pushed away the nagging self consciousness in his mind, worried every word would sound ridiculous, but pleasantly surprised with Alex’s reaction, arching up on the mattress, his breathing coming just a little bit faster. 

“Sounds like I’m gonna have a story for the other interns tomorrow,” he said, smirk covering the way his voice was a little shaky. 

“Don’t you fucking dare.” John grabbed his cock roughly, without warning, and Alex instinctively bucked up into the touch, too much and not enough all at once. 

“Shit, John,” he breathed. “You’re so–” He stopped, low whine in the back of his throat as John took his hand away, undoing his own fly.

“So what?” He was already hard, the shape of his cock visible through the fabric stretched tight over it. 

“So hot,” Alex finished, unable to think of a better adjective. At least not while John was _right there_ lightly stroking himself over his clothes.

The response caused John to laugh, a little embarrassed, and he turned his face to the side, distracted from what he had been doing. 

“John,” Alex said, and the tone of desperation already there went straight to John’s dick as he turned back. “Touch me.”

“What’s the point in tying you up if you’re just going to tell me what to do?” He put his hand back on him anyway, too pleased by the indulgent groan he gave not to. 

“For the aesthetic.” 

“Yeah?” John trailed his eyes over his body, slow, purposeful. Alex bucked up again, trying to coax John into moving his hand. “It is a good look on you. I could stare at you like this forever. You look so damn good, Alex.” He licked his lips, considering an idea that popped into his head. Trying to figure out if it would be received well before he dared ask. “Can I take a picture?” He watched as Alex’s face flushed further, his eyebrows raised at the question. “It’s okay if you don’t want to,” he added quickly, his voice somewhere between self conscious and sultry. “I just love looking at you. Especially like this. Fuck, Alex.”

“Okay.” He wasn’t making eye contact, still embarrassed and staring up at the ceiling. 

“Yeah?” John couldn’t keep the undercurrent of excitement from his voice. “You sure?”

“Yes, John.” His words were coming out a little quicker, as if that would make them easier to get out. “Hurry up before I change my mind.” He squirmed on the sheets as he watched him pull his phone out from his back pocket, unlocking the screen and pulling up the camera app. He could feel the heat in his cheeks as John studied him, testing out different angles. “You better not put any stupid filters on that.” He was aware that he was talking to cover up his own insecurity, and he hoped John couldn’t see through him that easily. 

“Don’t worry, it’ll be tasteful.” 

“Tasteful,” he echoed, mockingly. “You’re taking nudes of the guy you’re fucking, and your goal is _tasteful_.”

“You’re too stiff, Alex– don’t make the obvious joke please– you need to relax or it’s going to come out bad.”

“What do you want me to–” He stopped short as John’s hand was on him again, fingers wrapped around his shaft, giving him a few strokes before pulling away and taking several pictures in quick succession. 

“That’s better,” he said, sounding far too pleased with himself. “Do you want me to send them to you?”

“Why the fuck would I want nudes of myself?”

“So you can see what they look like. Plus, you get off on some weird shit. It wouldn’t surprise me if looking at yourself like this does it for you.”

Alex blushed harder, turning his face as far to the side as he could given the position. “No thank you.”

John tossed his phone onto the nightstand and turned Alex’s face back up, leaning in for an unhurried kiss. “Hey,” he said gently, kissing the side of his jaw and waiting for him to blink his eyes open again. “I’m just teasing you.”

Alex rolled his eyes, silently glad to be reassured. “I know that. Speaking of getting off on weird shit.”

“That’s not that weird,” he pointed out, straddling his lap and grinding his hips down a little. 

“Yeah,” Alex said, the word turning into a moan. He wasn’t sure if he was agreeing with what he had said or just encouraging the movement, but it didn’t really matter. 

“I think you owe me from earlier.” 

Alex had his eyes closed, lost in the sensation as John rocked forward again, so he didn’t see him taking his cock out of his briefs. “Hm?”

“For the blow job,” he clarified, catching the moment when understanding dawned on Alex as he opened his eyes and saw him running his hand over his shaft. 

“That was more cockwarming than a blowjob, John,” he joked, running his tongue over his lower lip. “You weren’t exactly moving much.”

“If I had you never would have finished.”

“I absolutely would have finished.” He emphasized the last word to make the innuendo clear.

“Finished the work, Alex.”

“Oh, yeah.” He tried to shrug, the movement made difficult by the way his arms were tied. “Probably not.”

“So?” he prompted, one eyebrow raised. 

Alex nodded, unsure if he’d be able to get words out if he tried right now. Tugged at the ropes just to remind himself they were there as John climbed up his body, lining his cock up with his lips, the position sending a jolt of pleasure through him. “Fuck,” he said, halfway between a sigh and a groan. 

“What?” John had stopped, just centimeters from his mouth. 

It took Alex a minute to realize he had misinterpreted. “Nothing. You’re just hot.” 

He laughed, the sound light and breathy and shaking his body on top of him just a little bit. “You said that already.”

“Yeah, well,” Alex trailed off, squirming a little bit, frustrated that his ability to express himself seemed to go out the window whenever John was staring at him. It was so hard to _think_. Especially with John on top of him like this. His dick so close to his mouth. “Shut me up then, before I say something else stupid.”

John didn’t need to be told twice. Not after hours of waiting for this. Pressed his hips forward, enjoying the view below him almost as much as the feeling itself. Alex stretched out underneath him, lips parting around him, face still flushed, and he couldn’t pinpoint if it was from embarrassment or need. He pushed in a little farther, moaning indulgently when he felt Alex’s throat work around him as he tried to stifle his gag reflex.

Alex did his best to actively participate, but the angle wasn’t great and he didn’t have a lot of room to work, especially without his hands. He didn’t know if John could sense that, or if he just wanted something to hold onto, but a moment later he felt a hand behind his head, fingers grasping at his hair and tugging a bit as he held him at a better position, fucking into his mouth with a little more enthusiasm now. Alex relaxed into it, feeling himself respond, his arousal growing just from being used like this. Moaned on John’s cock, hoping to push him closer as he sped up his pace little by little. He bucked up his own hips, desperate for something, anything. But then John was pulling away, Alex’s breath coming in pants now that his mouth was unobstructed. He glanced up, mind hazy with need and slightly confused by the sudden stop. 

Reading his expression easily, one corner of John’s mouth twitched up. “I told you, Alex,” he said, the words slow and deliberate. “I’m going to make you wait. Draw this out.”

He gave a frustrated groan that stopped short with the return of John’s hand to his dick. Hard, and flushed, and aching for contact. He lifted his hips, chasing the sensation. 

“Stop that.” One hand on his side, pressing him back down. “Or do I have to tie you down more thoroughly?”

“I wouldn’t complain.” He gave a breathless laugh, the muscles low in his stomach contracting with the effort of not pushing back up into his touch. Staying still when every instinct told him to _move_. 

“Mmm,” John sighed, hungry look in his eyes. “That would take so much more time though. Time where I wouldn’t be able to do this.” He traced fingers lightly up his shaft, then dragged his thumb over his cockhead, sliding in the precome there and applying just a small amount of pressure. Alex couldn’t help the way his hips jerked, but John was effectively keeping him pinned despite the reaction. 

“You’re bad at this,” he noted, smile halfway between fond and cruel. 

“Jesus christ, John,” he said, his voice coming out higher than he would have liked. “No one in their right mind could stay still with you doing _that_.”

“This?” He tightened his grip, twisting his wrist as he stroked down. 

“Shit,” Alex gasped. “Yes.” He twitched his hips again, even the tiny bit of movement increasing the intensity of the feeling building inside of him. “Faster,” he whined, the thought subconscious and escaping his lips before he could think it through fully. When John pulled his hand away he flung his head to the side, letting out a grunt of desperate frustration. 

“You have absolutely no patience.” 

“You’re one to talk.”

“Hey! I waited all night for you to finish your damn work.”

“Yeah, and you were bitching about it the whole time.” 

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to argue with me when I have you like this?” He leaned up, muscles tight and defined as he tugged at the ropes holding Alex to the bed. Trailed his fingers down over his wrists, tracing the bindings there. Kept moving until he was back at his face, hand cupping his cheek and pulling him into a rough kiss. 

Alex returned it with enthusiasm, melting against his lips and pressing his tongue insistently, biting at his lower lip, moving with the ebb and flow in a dance they were well versed in by now. A car horn blared on the street below, breaking him out of the lust-hazed trance, and he couldn’t help but wonder what time it was. A nagging reminder that they had work tomorrow, and John would need to go home at some point to get a change of clothes. He tried to push the thoughts away, wanting to enjoy this moment, but he couldn’t quite get rid of them, reverberating in the back of his mind, more grating than the car horn. “John,” he said, breathless, as he pulled back just an inch. Calculated his words carefully. “Fuck me.” He leaned his head back, making room for John to lean down and kiss and bite at his neck while he talked. “Please. I want you. Need you. Need you so much. Fuck.” He sucked in a sharp breath as he felt teeth near his pulse point. “John,” he insisted, his voice taking on more of an urgent tone. “ _Please_.”

And Alex wasn’t sure if his attempt at begging had actually worked, or if John was just growing impatient with the game he had created, tired of waiting, but he pushed himself back up, still stradling Alex’s torso as he gave himself a few quick strokes. Leaned over the side of the bed and then got up with a small frustrated noise when he couldn’t reach the lube from where he was kneeling. Uncapped the bottle with a sharp click as he made his way back, pushing Alex’s legs apart, settling between them. One finger, coated with a generous amount of lube, pressed against him. He spread his legs a little further, bending his knees with his feet planted on the mattress, tilting his hips to give John as much access as he could manage. A few seconds of torturous stillness as he waited, light pressure resting against him, not moving anywhere. Then, finally, his muscles gave way as he pressed in. Slow. Incredibly, frustratingly slow. Alex couldn’t tell if he was being cautious or just trying to work him up more by drawing it out. He wanted to push down further, speed up the process, but the rope binding him to the bed was already pulled taut, and he didn’t have much room to work with. He let out a frustrated whine, shifting his hips towards John’s finger as much as he could. “Faster,” he pleaded. “Come on, _faster_.”

John pulled out, just half an inch, then pressed back in, cutting any more of Alex’s words short as he continued. Setting a slightly quicker pace and adding a second finger once he felt him relaxing into it. He stretched his fingers apart once they were all the way in, eliciting a sharp gasp. “John, _please_. Please. _More_.” 

“What do you want, Alex? More what?” He bent his fingers, pressing a little harder as he felt Alex tense and jerk beneath him when he hit his prostate. 

“Shit, John. Fuck me. Just _fuck me_ already.” The words came out fast and a bit jumbled, but John complied. Drew his fingers out slowly, and applied a layer of lube to his cock, stroking himself as he adjusted their position, spreading Alex’s legs just a little further apart. Grabbed ahold of the bottom of his thighs and pushed them back to get a better angle as he sunk in. He kept a slow and steady pace, not rushing, but also not stopping until he had bottomed out. Felt a sharp sting of arousal as Alex’s slight groan of discomfort shifted into a moan, the pain and pleasure battling one another as he adjusted to the intrusion inside of him. 

Alex shifted his hips against the fullness, his muscles clenching, his whole body tight. Despite the burn of the stretch, the waiting was worse than anything, and he was about to scream at John to hurry up and move. Perhaps he could read his mind, or maybe, Alex thought, he was just that transparent, but before he could say anything John braced himself, leaning a little heavier on Alex’s thighs, and pulled nearly all the way out, only to thrust back in again after the shortest pause. The force of it rocked his body against the mattress, and he grabbed onto the rope between his hands tightly, not able to really stabilize himself, but needing something to hold onto nonetheless. Something to ground him as John’s pace quickened, his body relaxing into the motion as desire built more insistent inside of him. Felt him shift his position a little bit, and with the next stroke that sharp hit of pleasure was nearly overwhelming against his prostate. Closed his eyes as the world narrowed in around him to here and now. His entire existence just John and the crescendo of need winding through every muscle in his body, every inch of skin. Wringing him tighter and tighter until John’s hand was on him, roughly stroking him. He immediately unraveled under his touch, his orgasm pulsing through him, waves of pleasure only increased as John sped up, his thrusts coming quicker and harder as Alex tightened around him. He was only vaguely aware of the warmth spilling inside of him. His brain still wading through post-orgasm bliss, the feeling of it heavier and more comforting than the waves of the ocean. 

Alex sighed happily, head resting on John’s shoulder, both of them cleaned up and laying quietly on the bed. Enjoying the peaceful togetherness. It was a foreign concept during the rest of their day. Time spent with one another in the office always shadowed by the constant worry of being found out. He stretched out comfortably over the sheets, turned his head just briefly to kiss John’s neck, and then stared back up at the ceiling. Broke the stretch of silence after a few more minutes, pointedly avoiding eye contact as he spoke. “...can I see that picture?” 

John couldn’t help the amused laughter that followed, too loud in the otherwise quiet apartment, and gave him a smug look as he looked over. “Thought you didn’t want to see it?”

“I said I didn’t want you to send me it. Not that I didn’t want to see it.” He had turned more to the side, the words slightly muffled against John’s skin as he hid his face in embarrassment. John, still grinning, unlocked his phone and handed it to him, the most recent picture still up on his camera roll. Alex scrolled through the rest, scrutinizing them. Deleted a couple in which he was convinced he looked ridiculous.

“Hey!” John protested, trying to snatch his phone back but unable to with the angle he was at. “I didn’t say you could delete any of them.”

“They’re _my_ nudes, you asshole. I get to decide which ones you can keep.” 

“Yeah, yeah, fine. Just tell me before you do it next time so I can talk you out of it if it’s a good one.” Alex handed the phone back without comment. “I knew you’d want to look at them.”

“Of course I wanted to see them, John.” He rolled his eyes. “I had to know if they looked completely stupid.”

“And?”

“They’re actually pretty good,” he admitted after a moment’s hesitation. “The way the rope’s tied makes my arms look nice. And the lighting is weirdly decent for a shitty cell phone picture.”

“It’s a thousand dollar phone, Alex. It’s not like I’m taking pictures with a flip phone or something.” 

“A thousand dollars?” he responded, his jaw dropping just a little. “Right, remind me never to touch that thing again. I’m scared I’ll break it and owe you more than half my rent.”

“I’ve got a good case on it,” John attempted to reassure him. 

“How much was the case?”

“Not important.”

Alex glanced back at it, vaguely recognizing some brand name. “Well, good to know my nudes were taken on a _classy_ phone at least. It’ll make for much better viewing later when you’re alone at your place.”

“At my place, under my desk at work, wherever.”

“ _John_ ,” he complained, finally turning to make eye contact again and hitting him lightly on the arm. “I will kill you. Don’t think I’ll hesitate just because you’re my boyfriend now.”

He looked away from Alex’s gaze, back up at the ceiling, thrown off by the word. It was ridiculous of course. He had been the one to assume they were already dating. But hearing it said aloud was just so jarring. 

“We should tell people.” Alex said the words carefully, aware he was treading in uncertain waters. “It would make things easier. If we’re officially dating now, they’re going to find out eventually anyway, right?” He looked up, watching with just a flash of hurt as John’s eyes pinched shut. 

“Maybe,” he said, his tone decidedly leaning towards no. He tensed as he felt Alex loop one arm around his own, his breath tickling the fine hairs on his skin. 

“John.” 

He kept his eyes stubbornly closed, mind flashing to all the possible outcomes. 

“Is it because of your dad?”

“No,” he said flatly. Maybe it was a half truth, but he knew what Alex was really asking, and he answered _that_ honestly at least. 

“John, it’s fine, you can tell me–”

“He knows already, Alex.”

“Oh.” He sounded genuinely surprised, and John wasn’t sure whether to be offended by that or not. “Then why don’t you want to tell anyone?”

“Can we just keep it between us for a little longer?” He thought back to earlier in the night. Alex joking on the subway about newspaper headlines. His own father’s cautious words when he came out to him during college. His mind jumped back in time to South Carolina with too many politicians and reporters at every event he was dragged along to with the rest of his siblings. To pictures of him and his high school girlfriend making the paper after she insisted on going with him to some stupid fundraiser. Would they be as smitten with the speculation surrounding all of it if it were Alex on his arm instead? “It’s kind of fun sneaking around, isn’t it?” His heart beat against the words, the rhythm off from his own reality. His own truth. It wasn’t fun. It was necessary, and it killed him to think that Alex wanted more, and he wasn’t able to give it to him. 

“Yeah,” Alex conceded, forcing a grin on his face that he hoped was believable. “I guess.” They both laid there, breathing slightly offset from one another. Each lost in his own train of thought, neither quite able to guess correctly how the other was feeling. What he was thinking. Eventually, Alex heard John’s breathing slow, his eyes lightly shut against the dim glow of the city lights. “John?” he tried tentatively, nudging his shoulder. Got a mumbled response that sounded vaguely like _What?_ “You gonna want to set an alarm? Assuming you’ll want to run by your place in the morning.”

“I should just leave clothes here,” he said, just realizing what should have been obvious for the first time. After all, he had been sleeping at Alex’s apartment almost as often as he slept at his own. He half-opened his eyes, squinting against the light of his phone screen as he unlocked it and turned on one of his previously set alarms. 

“I’ll clear a drawer for you,” Alex said after several minutes of silence, unsure if he had even heard the offer. John’s breathing had evened out again, the soft rise and fall of his chest painting his body more peaceful than he ever looked awake. Alex sighed again, this time more conflicted than happy, and rolled to the other side, looping his arm around his own pillow. He closed his eyes, willing his brain to shut up with its incessant noise just long enough for him to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this makes up for my habit of ending chapters right before the good stuff 
> 
> Come chat on tumblr! @ilovefoodandgirls
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

“Alex.”

He didn’t look up, filtering through a spreadsheet to try and get the information he needed. Felt irritation prick at him when only two results came through. 

“Alex.”

He unfiltered the sheet and scanned through it, realizing with a jolt of annoyance that some of the dates were formatted wrong and not showing up in the filter. 

“Alex.”

He let out a sharp, frustrated sigh, snapping around in his seat. “What, John?”

“You said you wanted to get lunch.” 

Shit. He _did_ say he wanted to go eat somewhere outside of the office today. To be fair, that was four and a half hours ago, and he had thought there wouldn’t be much to do today. “Raincheck?”

“ _Alex._ ”

“Fine, fine.” He gave the spreadsheet one last, disdainful look before closing his laptop. “So, where’d you want to go?”

John shrugged, waiting as he grabbed his wallet and badge out of his bag. “Not sure.”

He rolled his eyes as he zipped the bag and shoved it back under his desk. “Thai?” 

John tipped his head to the side, giving a noncommittal gesture. 

“Greek?” He shook his head, and Alex sighed again as they waited for the elevator. “John, either make the decision yourself or say yes to something, christ. What about Indian? That place a block over?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

Alex wasn’t sure if he actually wanted Indian food or he was just saying yes to avoid choosing, but he supposed it didn’t really matter. “Okay, cool. Good.” 

They stepped out into the city, the smell of grilled foods from a nearby street vendor strong and making Alex realize just how hungry he actually was as his stomach growled. “So, what’s new?” he asked, hands in his pockets and looking over at John as he checked his phone. 

He didn’t look up as he answered. “It’s been a few hours since we last talked, Alex. Nothing is new.”

“That’s not true. _I_ found out about something new when I was talking to Washington earlier. But if _nothing is new_ maybe you don’t want to know.”

John looked up at him and gave an exasperated sigh. “Don’t be petty. Just tell me.” 

“New hires. Both with connections of course,” he said, rolling his eyes again, oblivious to John’s slight, guilty wince at the derisive way he said it. “One’s starting in a week I think. The other at some point within the month.”

“Really?” He asked, still feeling a little awkward but genuinely interested, phone still in his hand but hanging down by his side now. “What are they going to be doing?”

“I’m not _entirely_ sure. One is apparently super rich. Like summer homes on every continent rich. Wants some experience in American policy I guess, and his family knows people. So, you know, they arranged something. Honestly not even sure if Washington knows exactly what he’s supposed to be doing, but we’ll find out soon enough I’m sure.” 

“And the other?” John asked after a beat of silence.

“Oh yeah. Sorry.” He shook his head, as if clearing it. “One of Senator Schuyler’s kids. She’s apparently in law school and figured it’d be a good fit. Or her dad did. I don’t know who actually made the decision there.”

“Which daughter?”

“I don’t know,” he answered flippantly, then turned back to him with narrowed eyes. “Wait a second, do you know them already? Did you all go to some kids of senators summer camp or something?”

“My father was a congressman when I was younger,” he responded, just a little touchy and glancing up towards the sky as they walked. “And, no, I don’t know them. I know of them though.”

“Because your families run in similar circles?” he teased, bumping against him lightly. 

“Yeah basically,” John muttered, annoyed at the correct assumption. 

“No, no, this is good. Always good to have some insider info. You got any dirt? Any decent gossip?”

“No,” he said pointedly, moving slightly to the side to avoid a group of people coming the other direction. “I told you, I don’t know them. Would you drop it?”

“So, _did_ you go to summer camp? Because I could totally see you going to summer camp.”

John sighed, but he was at the very least grateful for a change of topic from the political stuff. “Yeah.” He hesitated, but knew Alex would just ask if he didn’t add to that. “Boy scout camp.”

“I fucking knew it!” 

“Scouts looked good on college applications,” he said defensively.

“I never said it was a bad thing.” Alex laughed, grabbing his hand and trying not to be bothered when he glanced back behind the two of them. 

“It was fun,” he admitted. “Campfires, swimming in the lake, sports, hiking.”

“Cute. Did you make friendship bracelets and toast marshmallows?”

“We toasted marshmallows. You can’t try and make me feel embarrassed about that, s’mores are delicious. We cooked hot dogs over the fire too.”

“Ah, good to know if we ever get stranded in the woods with a pack of beef franks. Very practical survival skills.” He grabbed the door to the small Indian restaurant, holding it open and following John in. They stood behind a couple of people in line, John reading through the menu posted high on the wall behind the counter while Alex continued to talk. “Can you at least start a fire?”

“Yeah,” he responded, slightly distracted as he read one of the descriptions. 

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, Alex.”

“Okay, fine, you can be on my survival team.”

“Who says I'd want _you_ on _mine_? Doesn’t seem like you’re bringing much to the table.”

“Hey. I know a lot of things.”

“How to catch food? Set up shelter? Perform first aid?” 

“I could figure it out.”

“Of course you could.” He patted him on the shoulder condescendingly as they moved up to the front of the line and gave their orders to the man at the register. 

They sat down at a nearby table, close enough so they could hear when their orders were ready. “You should put me on your team anyway,” Alex started up again, toying with the cap on his drink absentmindedly. “After all there’s not much to do in the middle of the woods. You’ll need recreation.” 

“Tempting, but I’d still rather not get eaten by bears.”

“It’s a _team _, John. Get someone else to kill bears for you.”__

__“Aren’t you worried the guy who can wrestle a bear is going to be a threat to you?”_ _

__Alex paused, thinking that one through. “... get a straight guy to tackle bears for you. Or a woman. Yeah, that’s even better. You got any super buff lady friends?” John laughed, shaking his head. “Damn. Okay, yeah, a straight guy then. Who’s gonna be our first aid person?”_ _

__“I know basic first aid, Alex.”_ _

__“Are you kidding me.” The guy behind the counter called out their order numbers as he placed two bags down. They both hurried up from their chairs to grab them, John picking up some napkins and plastic utensils on the way back . Once they were seated at the table again, unpacking the containers, Alex went on. “Was this another boy scout thing?”_ _

__“We learned CPR in scouts,” he admitted. “A few other things too. But I also wanted to go to med school when I was younger, so I read up on stuff… just easy stuff,” he added, starting to feel a little embarrassed at the admission. “Nothing too complicated.”_ _

__“Why didn’t you do pre-med?” Alex had his plastic fork and knife in hand, both resting in the container in front of him._ _

__John shrugged, feeling a little bit like he was about to be interrogated. “I just decided by the time I got into college that poli-sci was more practical.”_ _

__Alex looked skeptical as he stared at him across the table. “What does that even mean? More practical? It’s not like you didn’t have the funds for med school.” His voice had turned more serious, realizing what he really meant but didn’t want to say._ _

__“You know,” John insisted, starting to get flustered. “It’d be easier for me to get a job in politics, and there were connections available to me that I wouldn’t have had in the medical field… that sort of stuff.”_ _

__Alex turned his eyes down to look at his food so he wouldn’t have to see John’s reaction. “Sounds like your father decided it was more practical.” The silence was somehow louder than anything they had been saying, and Alex looked up nervously._ _

__After a few seconds John broke eye contact and looked toward a table to their right, watching as two kids chased one another around it. “It doesn’t matter anyway.” He stabbed a piece of meat with his fork, just staring at it instead of actually taking a bite. “Do you need to be back soon? I know you have a lot of work to get done.”_ _

__“We just got our food.” He glanced between the two of them, mostly full takeout containers on the table. “I have time.” The statement wasn’t completely true. He did need to get back. Was supposed to be sitting in on a meeting at one thirty and had some notes to prepare for Washington before that. But he couldn’t leave with John sounding so _dejected_. “Camp sounds nice by the way.” John looked up at that, surprised and relieved at the topic change. “I know I was giving you shit, but I don’t know. It sounds fun.” He wondered what it would have been like. To be dropped off every summer with a bunch of other kids who all wanted to know you and hang out together. Even in the absence of parents, to have that structure and safety net that a well funded institution provides. And campfire songs. And dumb ice breaker games. And learning how to survive because you could rather than because you had to. “Sorry I was being a dick about it. Just a little jealous,” he said with a forced laugh, hoping John didn’t notice the honesty underneath it. _ _

__“It’s fine.”_ _

__

__Alex was picking things up after the meeting, stacking papers, throwing away leftover agendas at vacated seats. He checked his own laptop again, plugged in and charging at the far end of the table, tapping at one of the keys to bring the screen back up. “Sir, do you want me to send over the minutes now?” Washington looked up from where he was still seated, looking over his own notes._ _

__“Yes, that would be good Hamilton.” Alex didn’t bother sitting down as he saved the file and attached it to an email, Washington’s contact autofilling as he began to type in the recipient field. “You were nearly late to the meeting today.” It was merely an observation, not a complaint, but Alex still grimaced._ _

__“Sorry about that, sir. My lunch ran a little late. Lost track of time.”_ _

__“It’s alright.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Did you enjoy the food at least?”_ _

__“Yeah. We went to that Indian place nearby. I don’t know if you’ve been, but it’s good.”_ _

__“Send me the address, I’ll give it a look. Who’d you go to lunch with?”_ _

__“Hm?” He couldn’t think of a proper response, caught off guard by the question and kicking himself because it was a completely innocuous thing to ask._ _

__“You said ‘we’. Were you out with the other interns?”_ _

__“Just with John Laurens, sir.” There was no point in lying about something that could so easily be fact checked._ _

__“He’s a nice young man.” Washington nodded to himself as he spoke, and Alex had the strange feeling that he was giving his approval or something. “He has a good head on his shoulders. I’ve known his father for years now.”_ _

__Alex stifled the urge to make a face. “Yeah. We talk a lot. He’s nice.” He could hear himself echoing the same adjective for fear of saying something more conspicuous. Something that wouldn’t sound like a normal way to describe your coworker._ _

__“Yes, you two seem like you’ve gotten very close. That’s good. You need more friends to drag you out of here every once in a while.”_ _

__Alex swallowed, feeling like there was a lump in through that wouldn’t go away. “That email should be sent now. If you don’t need anything else?” He glanced towards the door._ _

__“You’re free to go. Thank you for your help, Hamilton.”_ _

__“You’re welcome, sir.”_ _

__

__Alex slung his bag over his shoulder at about six o’clock, scanning the office and noticing for the first time that the entire section where the interns sat was empty save for him. He wasn’t expecting many people, but he certainly wasn’t expecting it to be empty. He pulled out his phone again, but there were no messages. Hovered next to his own desk for a moment, unsure whether he should leave or not, then sat back down and sent off a quick text._ _

__\-- Alex: Hey. Did you leave?  
\-- Alex: Thought we were heading to your place after work?_ _

__He stared at the screen, tapping his foot against the hardwood floor. When he didn’t get an immediate reply he got up again. Paced to the kitchen and got himself a glass of water, sipping at it slowly as he leaned against the counter, more for something to do than because he was actually thirsty. When he finished the glass, and there was still no response, he shoved the phone back in his pocket and headed to the elevator. “Fuck it,” he muttered to himself as the doors opened and he stepped inside, thankful there was no one else heading down at this time of day. He’d decided to just head home, call John later and figure out where the hell he went, when the doors opened into the lobby and he practically ran straight into him._ _

__“Oh, hey,” he started, but fell silent when John held up a hand and motioned for him to stop talking. He had his phone pressed to his ear, brow furrowed as he listened._ _

__“Just someone from work,” he said to the person on the other line. Fell silent again and leaned his shoulder against the cool, marble wall behind them. “What time should I be expecting you?”_ _

__Alex tilted his head, trying to ask the questions buzzing through his mind without speaking._ _

__“Alright. Should I meet you at your hotel? Where are you staying?” He leaned into his arm a little more heavily. “Alright. I need to get going, but I’m looking forward to it. I’ll see you soon. Love you too. Bye.”_ _

__“Sorry,” he said, turning to Alex and rubbing the back of his neck as he hung up the call. “My father.”_ _

__“You want to walk?” He motioned towards the door, and John nodded, falling into step beside him. “So, what’d he want?”_ _

__John frowned. “He doesn’t only call when he wants something.”_ _

__“Well.” Alex glanced sideways to try and gauge his expression. “Did he want something? Kind of sounded like it.”_ _

__“Yeah,” he admitted as he put his hands in his pockets. “He’s coming up to visit this weekend. Last minute,” he added, before Alex could ask if it was planned and why he hadn’t mentioned it. “He has a meeting with someone up here I guess and wanted to see me while he’s in the city.”_ _

__Alex waited for more, but John was silent, staring straight ahead as they followed the flow of people on the sidewalk. “So, you guys just getting dinner?” he prompted. “Is he visiting your place?”_ _

__“Lunch. And then some sightseeing I guess. Then dinner. Not exactly sure of the agenda.”_ _

__“Damn. An all day event.”_ _

__John hesitated, still keeping his gaze steadily forward. “And brunch on Sunday.”_ _

__“Jesus christ. Am I gonna see you at all this weekend?”_ _

__“You can come over Sunday night,” he responded, feeling a little guilty knowing that brunch probably also meant a couple of drinks after the meal and heading back to the hotel to see him off after._ _

__Alex sighed, hunching his shoulders in a little without thinking about it._ _

__“Are you upset?”_ _

__“What? No.” He straightened up again. “No, of course not. It’s fine. He’s your dad. You’re not gonna blow him off. I get that.”_ _

__John wasn’t quite sure that he _did_ understand, but gave a small nod anyway. _ _

__“Of course I’m disappointed I won’t get to see you much, but…” He shrugged. “It’s out of your control. I get it.” He looked over at John again, but he seemed lost in thought, staring off into space ahead of them. “Will you text me at least? You know I have a hard time shutting up, and it’s going to be a long weekend if I can’t even talk to you.”_ _

__John gave him a soft smile, taking one hand out of his pocket to grab Alex’s as they got to the subway entrance. “Of course.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, leave me some comments please <3 
> 
> Come chat on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	8. Chapter 8

John woke early on Saturday, and it took him a minute to remember Alex wasn’t in the bed next to him, rolling over and expecting to see him still asleep or propped up against the headboard with his phone or laptop out, quietly keeping himself busy while he waited for John to wake up. Instead, he was only met with the other side of the bed, empty and very clearly unslept on. He got up, reluctantly making his way across the room while rubbing at his eyes and drawing back the curtains from floor to ceiling windows. The view of the sun rising over the Manhattan skyline was beautiful, but too bright, and he squinted as his eyes adjusted. Picked up his phone off the nightstand, meaning to turn off the alarm he had set until he saw a few missed messages from overnight. 

\-- Alex: fuck. can’t sleep again  
\-- Alex: wish you were here  
\-- Alex: sorry, that was dumb, ignore that  
\-- Alex: just tired

He found himself smiling softly at the screen, his heart echoing the sentiment. He wished he was there too. He considered texting back, but didn’t want to wake him assuming he had fallen asleep at some point. He put the phone back down and changed into shorts and a t-shirt, shouldering his gym bag before heading down to the building’s fitness center. 

Alex _was_ still awake. He had given up on trying to get back to sleep around four in the morning, and was instead curled up on the couch with a thick book on political theory. He checked his phone again, wondering if John was still asleep. No new messages. He sighed and put it back down on the arm of the couch, facedown so he wouldn’t be tempted to keep checking every couple of minutes. Fuck. It’s not like he wasn’t used to being alone. He had lived alone for years. Why was this so difficult? He picked up his phone again, scrolling through his recent contacts. 

\-- Alex: you doing anything later

He only had to wait a few minutes for the response to come back.

\-- Hercules: are you aware it’s 6 in the morning?  
\-- Hercules: not a normal time to be texting someone  
\-- Hercules: did you consider i might be sleeping?  
\-- Hercules: but no, i’m not doing anything. did you want to do something?

Alex laughed as he read through the messages, all coming through in rapid fire succession. 

\-- Alex: yeah. idk what though. can i come over to your place?  
\-- Hercules: not right now. It’s 6 in the morning.  
\-- Alex: i didn’t mean *right now*  
\-- Alex: sheesh  
\-- Alex: 11?  
\-- Hercules: fine

Alex snorted, glad for some sense of lightness and normalcy, and put the phone back down. He scanned the page for a moment, finding the spot where he left off in his book and tucked his knees up to his chest as he settled back in.

Freshly showered and dressed in khakis and a striped button down, John made his way to the hotel around ten thirty. It wasn’t too far, so he decided to walk, the soft breeze making the city heat blessedly bearable. Gave a quick greeting to the doorman and stepped into an over the top lobby with high ceilings and marble walls, a chandelier hanging in the center of the room. Saw his father stand up from a dark brown leather chair in a small seating area nearby. 

“Jack,” he said, walking over and pulling into a brief hug. “It’s good to see you.” 

“It’s good to see you too.” The words felt a little stiff on his tongue, and he willed himself to relax. 

“We have some time before our reservation,” he said, glancing down at his watch. “About an hour. Did you want to go up to my room? Or we could go out and do something else to kill time?”

John hesitated, not particularly thrilled with the idea of being alone with his father in his hotel room. “Central Park is close.”

“That’s a good thought,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder and steering him towards the door. “It’s such a nice day. It’s been sweltering in DC of course.”

“I’m sure,” John responded automatically, falling into step beside him as they got out onto the sidewalk. “How was your meeting?”

“It went well, thank you for asking. Not that it was anything to worry over in the first place.” John watched as he smiled to himself like it was an inside joke. “I know the man well, and I’m sure he had no intention of being uncooperative.” They paused at the street corner, waiting for the light to turn as a few other people stepped around them to cross during the break in traffic. “How has the internship been going?”

“Good. Well,” he corrected himself. “It’s been going well.” He didn’t offer anything else, not sure how thorough of answer he was looking for. 

“Do they let you do anything interesting, or is it mostly coffee runs?”

There was an air of teasing, but John still bristled a bit at the implication and the slightly condescending tone. Made sure to keep his tone polite as he answered though. “No, I get to do a lot of work with the policy side of things. Some of it’s a little more tedious, but I understand I have to start somewhere.”

“If you ever want anything a little more high level, the offer always stands for a position at my office, Jack.” 

John swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. This conversation had been beaten to death already over the years. “Thank you for the offer. I’m happy with my current position though.” The words felt rehearsed, and he turned his head with the pretext of checking the next crosswalk light. 

Henry just smiled, looking across the street to where the lush greenery of Central Park was now visible. “Yes, I imagine you must like being young in New York. All this energy and passion.”

 _And freedom,_ John’s brain supplied. _Distance. Independence. Privacy._

“Just make sure you’re thinking about your career as well.”

“I will.” He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and resisted the urge to pull it out right away. They passed through the stone entryway into the park, the noise of the city almost immediately dampened as they crossed the street where bikers and runners passed by on their morning exercise routes. They came to a fork in the path, and his father led them towards the center of the park. 

“So, what about the rest of your life, Jack? Have you made many friends in the city?” He turned his head to watch as a few kids threw a frisbee on the grass without slowing his pace. 

“Yes. The rest of the interns have all been very welcoming. We go out, get drinks sometimes. It’s been a very good experience so far.”

“Any families I would know?”

“I’m not sure.” He thought for a minute, then shook his head. “Not anyone you’ve worked with directly I don’t think.” He felt his phone buzz in his pocket again, and it reminded him of an earlier conversation. “Oh, one of Senator Schuyler’s daughters is going to be working with us soon though.”

“Is that so?” He waited for John to nod before continuing. “That makes sense I suppose. The family is from New York after all. Did you want to sit?” He motioned towards a bench, and John sat more out of politeness than a desire to stay still. If it were up to him they wouldn’t stop moving until they got to the restaurant, allowing him to ease his nerves. They were both quiet a moment, listening to sounds of birds and people chattering and children playing all around them. “Jack,” Henry began, breaking the momentary peace and causing John to tense just a little. “If there’s anything I need to know about, anything that might come up at some point, let me know now. So I can get ahead of it.”

He closed his eyes, trying to brace himself against the words. Unsure what else to do but turn his head to the side slightly so his father couldn’t try to read any expression there. “I’m not sure I know what you mean,” he managed, the fist on the side out of his father’s view clenched tightly on top of the bench. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be called on the lie or not. 

His father sighed, turning to try and get a better look at him. “Jack. I’m trying to help. You don’t want that sort of thing getting picked up by the press.”

 _That sort of thing._ The words echoed in his head for a minute. He wanted to get up and leave. Go back to his apartment. Or back to Alex’s apartment. Escape from all of this. He felt like something raw and bright was buzzing just under his skin, desperate to get out. “There’s nothing to worry about,” he lied through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed resolutely on a large tree a little ways away. 

“Alright. Well…” He shifted so he was facing forward again. “If there ever is, you have my number.” 

Alex sat cross legged on a faux leather sofa at a cramped apartment on the lower east side, Haitian food from a nearby restaurant spread on the coffee table as he checked his phone again.

“Still no response?” His friend Hercules sat next to him, biting into one of the patties from his plate and giving a sympathetic look. 

“No.” He flung the phone back down next to him. “He said he’d text me, and I haven’t heard from him all day. What the hell. He couldn’t find one second to spare between overpriced meals at restaurants where the food is more expensive than my utilities for the month?” 

“Calm down.” He took another bite. “It’s only what? Quarter to noon? Give him some time.”

“He _said_ he’d text me,” Alex repeated, though a little more sullenly and less accusatory this time. 

“You need something to take your mind off it. What do you want? Movie? Video games?”

“Drinking game.”

“I’m not as young as you, I can’t start drinking at noon.” 

“Buzzkill.”

“There’s no buzz to be killed. You’re just sitting here moping in my apartment.”

Alex glanced at his phone again but didn’t pick it up this time. “What games do you have? It needs to be something easy. I don’t know how to play all of those action shooter games or whatever, and I’m not in the mood to learn.”

“Mario Party it is.” He got up to put the disk in, handing a wireless controller to Alex as he sat back down on the couch and flipped to the right input with the remote. As he started picking the settings for the game, he turned again. “Do you want to grab dinner out somewhere later? Get out on the town and keep yourself occupied?”

“Sure,” he answered, trying to figure out if there was any difference in gameplay between the characters on the screen. He gave up and just picked one, leaning back into the cushions as the board popped up on the screen.

John sat across from his father at a small table with a white table cloth draped over it. He sipped at his water, anxious for something to do with his hands. “I didn’t get a chance to ask earlier. How is everyone?” 

“They’re fine. Martha’s going back to school in a couple of weeks, so she’s excited about that. The rest of them are just dreading the end of summer I think,” he added with a chuckle. “Jemmy just got back from camp of course. It’s all he’s been talking about lately.” John smiled fondly at that and sipped his water again as the server came over to take their drink orders and Henry ordered a bottle of wine for the two of them to split. “Have you worked on your law school application at all lately? I know you wanted to get some working experience first, which is perfectly respectable of course, but it’ll take time even after you submit all the materials to process everything and for them to make decisions.”

John took another sip of water, wishing the wine was already at the table. “I was looking over requirements again the other day,” he lied, carefully watching his father. “I still need to schedule a date to take the LSATs, and I’d like some more time to study before that to make sure I’m prepared.”

“You can always take them again if you need to,” Henry pointed out with a dismissive hand gesture. “There’s a test date at the beginning of October. You should register.” 

John wondered how much he had prepared and looked into all of this information beforehand in anticipation of his objections. It’s not like he could tell his father how wary he was of applying for law school, knowing that it was another few years of living under his financial burden when the bills for tuition and books came in. That he wasn’t even sure if he wanted the degree, and that blindly following this predetermined life plan was making him feel more and more on edge the older he got. 

“I’ll look into it.” He thanked the server as she came back around to the table, opening the bottle and pouring his glass first. “I could probably get a more permanent position in Washington’s office after the internship is over,” he ventured, braced for some kind of objection to that. “Or with a nonprofit in the city. There are a lot of them in the area that I wouldn’t need a higher degree for.”

“You should get the degree now while you still have school fresh in your mind. Trust me.”

He took a long drink, feeling panic rise in his throat at the tone of finality. “You’re right,” he conceded, unwilling to keep arguing after his weak attempt at dialogue had proven as useless as ever. “I’ll sign up for the October test date.”

“Good.” 

John excused himself to the restroom, taking out his phone on the way and pulling up his messages.

Back at Hercules’s apartment, Alex was lying on the couch, buzzed from the pack of beers he had convinced his friend to open around two in the afternoon, arguing that it wasn’t noon anymore and therefore more acceptable somehow. Hercules sat on the chair to his right, half paying attention to Alex and half to the television as they streamed some show he’d already seen. Watching from the corner of his eye, he caught when Alex unlocked the screen to his phone again.

“Any response from your boy yet?”

Alex read the messages before answering, having a hard time focusing on the words.

\-- John: Sorry. I know I should have responded earlier.  
\-- John: Haven’t had a moment to myself.  
\-- John: I miss you.

“Yeah.” He reread the last text, feeling his heart catch. “He’s been busy I guess.”

“Of course he’s been busy. I told you to be more patient. You said his dad’s visiting, right?”

“Yeah,” Alex responded, the reminder of Senator Laurens enough to squash any fleeting sense of comfort the text had given. “Do you think…” He stopped himself, realizing that his tipsy state of mind was making him say things he would normally keep to himself. Vulnerable questions that should remain inside where they couldn’t do any harm. 

“Do I think what?”

“Nothing.”

“Nuh uh. Tell me what’s on your mind. You don’t keep shit from me, that’s not how this works.” 

Alex thought back to when he first got to New York, crashing here at his apartment until he got his footing. Hercules helping him with anything and everything while he adjusted and got started at school. Letting rent slide and acting as a sounding board for his ideas. Unafraid to tell him when he was being an idiot. “Do you think… shit this is dumb.” He ran a hand back through his hair. “Do you think he’ll ever introduce me?”

“To his dad?” Alex nodded mutely. “Do you want him to?”

He paused in thought, realizing he was a little drunker than he thought as the words jumbled together in his mind. Based on everything he knew, he wasn’t a fan of Senator Laurens. Had no respect for him, his policy stances, his voting record. But he also knew he was important to John. Knew that, whether he liked it or not, they were family. And family was something that he didn’t really know well, but he could imagine what that must be like. Rather it was something he had imagined. Had wished for as a kid. Had been envious of others for as he got older. And isn’t there something tangible and important in meeting someone else’s family for the first time? The promise of a future and connection and a life together? “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s complicated.”

“For what it’s worth,” Hercules said slowly. “If it were me, I’d want him to introduce me to his family eventually. I think anyone would want that.” 

Alex just nodded, too caught up in his own thoughts to respond appropriately. He was distracted enough by the turn in the tide of the conversation that he forgot to respond to John’s message, his phone lying forgotten on the coffee table as he turned his focus back to the television.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second hand anxiety I felt for John while writing this was insane. He needs a hug. They both do honestly. 
> 
> Leave me your thoughts down in the comments, friends!
> 
> Come chat on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	9. Chapter 9

After lunch, John’s father insisted on heading over to the Met to kill some time until their dinner reservation. John trailed after him, the familiar exhibits soothing his nerves, even if they weren’t able to completely put him at ease. He hung back a moment while his father inspected a painting to check his phone. Still no response from Alex. As he shoved it back in his pocket, he felt his forehead crease with a frown. _So much for never being able to shut up._

After the Met they took a cab back to the hotel, a facade of pleasant small talk broken up by awkward silences and his father excusing himself to check his work email. He felt anxious energy build up inside of him as they walked past the doorman and through the lobby to the elevators. Followed his father up to his room, the walls around him feeling more like a prison than a luxury suite. 

“Would you like anything? The minibar is stocked. Or we could order something from room service.”

John momentarily considered downing one of the nips of whiskey like a shot, but he knew that wasn’t his father’s intent with the question. He was expected to politely decline. And he knew better than to so blatantly go against those expectations. “No, I’m alright. Thank you though.”

“Of course.” He sat down in an armchair at the far corner of the room, leaving John to take a seat on the couch perpendicular to it. “You seem distant, Jack.”

John felt himself tense, taken aback at being called out on it. Wracking his brain to find the proper protocol for how to react in this situation. “Do I?”

“Yes.” Blunt. He watched John carefully, as if looking for cracks in the armor he had so carefully put up. 

“I’m sorry. I haven’t been feeling well.” The lie came to him automatically, and he clung to it. Desperation to avoid a heavier conversation winning out over anything else. He chewed at his lower lip as his father looked him over, hoping it was at least somewhat believable. 

“That’s too bad. Nothing contagious I hope?”

“No. Just tired I think. It’s been a long week.” Belatedly, he realized that maybe he _should_ have said it was contagious. Some sort of bug. Maybe he would have been sent home early. Maybe there was still a chance if he started coughing and playing it up enough. 

“You’ve always been so devoted to the things you care about, even when you were a child in school.” It felt like a strange, contradictory mixture of admonishment and praise, and he wasn’t quite sure how to interpret it. “Make sure you take the time to relax as well. You don’t want to burn out.” The advice felt superficial, going against the precedent his father set and the way he was raised, and he resisted the urge to let that dissonance show on his face. “Is there anything else on your mind?”

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket again, and _of course_ Alex would respond _now_. Because the honest answer to his father's question was _yes_ there was something else on his mind. Alex was on his mind. And Alex had constantly been on his mind for over a month now, and it was so damn hard to sit here and pretend like he didn’t exist. John shook his head. “Just tired. I think I will have a drink though if that’s alright. Like I said, long week.” His father raised his eyebrows, but motioned him toward the minibar. John picked up the phone for room service instead, ordered a cocktail, needing something a little stronger. Hung up with the promise it would be there shortly. 

Alex stared at his screen, sitting at a bar with Hercules. Red-tinted lights hung above them, casting a dim glow on exposed brick walls and reflecting off the shelves of liquor lining the back wall. 

\-- Alex: Miss you too  
\-- Alex: Wish I could be there with you 

He hadn’t completely thought it through before sending the message. The conversation with Hercules from earlier had still been fresh in his mind, and he sent the first words that came to him. He considered sending a follow up text. Taking it back. Apologizing. But none of that felt right. He _shouldn’t_ feel sorry for wanting to be with him. John hadn’t responded of course. It had been hours now. He was probably still at some fancy, over-priced luxury restaurant with his dad. Catching up on everything in his life. Everything but Alex. 

He took another long sip of his drink, the burn of the rum sharp in the back of his throat. 

“Slow down with that,” Hercules advised, glancing sideways at the level of his drink. “I’m not carrying you home.” 

Alex didn’t say anything, just stared down moodily. 

Hercules turned to him and gave an exasperated sigh. “Look, it’s not that big of a deal. So he’s been busy for a day. It’s one day, Alex. Shit, I never thought you’d be this clingy with anyone. You must really like him.” 

“I’m not _clingy_ ,” he muttered, shaking the glass and making the ice clink against the sides. 

“Not that convincing when you haven’t gone ten minutes without checking your phone for hours now.” 

Alex continued to stare down at his drink, watching the way the light reflected against the liquid. 

“This was supposed to be a distraction. You want to go somewhere else?” 

He shrugged, feeling his head spin a little at the thought of walking anywhere right now. 

“Right. I’m closing the tab. You can either tell me what you want to do or we’re going back to my place.” 

As Hercules got up to flag down the bartender, Alex felt his phone vibrate. Unlocked it a little belatedly, the delay from his brain to his hands affecting his movements. 

\-- John: Yeah. I wish you were here too. 

“Shit, John,” he said under his breath. “Then just tell him. He can fuck off if he doesn’t like it.” 

“Talking to yourself now?” Hercules was back with his credit card and a receipt in hand. 

Alex handed over his phone in wordless explanation. 

“That’s a good thing, you dummy.” 

“It’s his own fault I’m not there.” 

Hercules spoke carefully. “From everything you’ve told me, it sounds like his dad’s fault.” 

“He’s an adult.” 

“Still.” 

“He could tell him.” 

“Give him time. At least talk to him about it before you go off the fucking rails.” 

“Whatever.” 

He patted him on the back, causing Alex to jolt forward on the barstool in surprise. “You need some air. Finish that and let’s go.” 

They were out on the sidewalk, wandering half-aimlessly, but in the general direction of Hercules’s apartment, when Alex’s phone started ringing. It took him a minute to realize, and he stumbled over a dip in the sidewalk as he pulled it out, feeling his heart skip a beat as John’s contact showed up on the screen. 

“You okay to answer that?” Hercules asked, watching him closely. 

Alex didn’t respond to him, but brought the phone to his ear. “Hello?” 

“Hey. Can I come over?” The words were normal enough, but something was off. An undercurrent of something strained and fragile. Like he was ready to snap. Or break. 

Alex swallowed, having a hard time getting the words to come out. “Um. I’m out right now. Hold on.” He turned to Hercules. “How long do you think it’d take for me to get back?” 

Hercules glanced at the map app on his phone. “Like an hour?” 

“Shit. Why do you live so far away?” He put the phone back to his ear, ignoring Hercules’s protest at the complaint. “I’m like an hour away from my place right now. I can head back if you want.” 

“Where are you?” 

“Just left a bar on the lower east side. Out with Hercules.” 

“Oh.” He paused for a minute. “Just come to my place then.” 

“Don’t you have to be up early?” 

“It’s fine.” 

He shook his head a little, but gave in easily, too wound up from the long day without him and the way he could tell something was wrong just by the strain in his voice. “Alright. I don’t have clothes or anything with me.” 

“It’s fine, Alex.” Contrary to the words, he didn’t _sound_ fine. “I can meet you on your way over. I’m by Central Park South right now. Between 6th and 7th. You’d pass me anyway. Want me to wait here?” 

“Sure. Which side of the street?” 

“The park side.” 

“Okay. I’ll keep an eye out. I’ll see you soon?” 

“See you soon. Bye.” 

“Bye.” He heard the beep of the call ending and sighed, dropping his hand back down to his side. 

“You okay to walk over there by yourself?” Hercules must have been able to pick up enough context from his half of the conversation. 

“Yeah. I’m fine,” he said, waving off the concern. 

“You’re drunk,” he countered. “And I’m going to feel real bad if you end up in an alley somewhere.” 

Alex rolled his eyes, focusing on where he was placing his feet so he didn’t trip again. “I’ll be in well-lit, tourist-heavy areas. Promise. If I fall on my ass, I’m sure some nice family in ‘I heart New York’ t-shirts will help me out. You’re not going out of your way to walk me there.” The refusal had as much to do with his own pride as any inconvenience, and they both knew it, but thankfully Hercules could sense that his ego had been bruised enough for the day and let it slide. 

“Text me when you get there,” he insisted, holding eye contact until Alex conceded. 

“Yeah, fine.” 

John sat on a bench outside Central Park, earbuds in with his music turned up, scrolling through his phone. He nearly jumped when Alex stopped directly in front him, waving a hand by his face to get his attention. Pulled the earbuds out as he got to his feet. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” 

They both stood there a moment, silent as the city kept churning around them. John felt frozen in place and time, looking at Alex, both relief and guilt coming over him, and he couldn’t quite place where either emotion was coming from. It all felt wrong. The whole day felt wrong, and he wanted to shake it off, close his eyes and start over again. He saw Alex hesitate, his hand lifting just barely, as if he were going to reach for him, before thinking better of it and drawing it back down to his side. 

“How was dinner?” he ventured, the words sounding cautious and overly thought out. 

“It was fine.” The response felt robotic on his lips, and he couldn’t help but think he was stuck like this after a whole day of mindless, automatic responses that revealed nothing at all of his own thoughts and feelings. That he had been trying not to overthink everything for so long that maybe he was unable to process his thoughts at all anymore. 

“That’s good.” Alex didn’t sound like he believed him, but he didn’t press it. “So, what do you want to do? You want to go back to your place?” 

John nodded a little too quickly. He knew he couldn’t go out anywhere with Alex right now. Not knowing his father was here in Manhattan. He just wanted to be behind a locked door where he wouldn’t feel the constant fear of being watched and judged. 

“Okay. You want to walk?” Alex was shifting his weight between his feet, overly aware that John was still stuck to one spot on the sidewalk, staring a little bit past him towards the trees. “Or we could take the subway. Or a cab I guess. If you want to pay for that.” 

“We can walk.” He forced himself to move, and Alex fell in easily beside him, leaving a gap between them that felt as unnatural as everything else that day. “It’s a nice night out, and it’s not that far.” 

“Yeah, it’d be dumb to take a cab. I wasn’t going to tell you how to spend your money, but I would have judged you for it.” 

John laughed, but it felt almost scripted. Like he was going through the motions without actually feeling anything to go with them. 

“So,” Alex started, stretching the word out a little. “How’s your father?” 

“He’s fine.” 

Beat of silence. “That’s good.” Alex swore under his breath as he tripped on the sidewalk and stumbled before regaining his footing again. 

“You okay?” 

"Yeah, I’m good.” His face was flushed, and John noticed for the first time the way his words were slurring just a little bit at the edges. 

“Do _you_ need to take a cab?” 

He laughed a little, crossing his arms over his chest. “No. I’m good. I can make it a few blocks. The sidewalks in this city are just shit.” John took him in more fully now, black v-neck shirt and jeans, cuffed at the bottom where they were just a little too long, his hair down and brushing against his shoulders, a few strands that kept getting caught in his face as the breeze rushed past them. 

“You were out with Hercules?” 

“Yeah. I said that on the phone didn’t I?” Alex asked with a hint of uncertainty as the wind blew, and he tried to get his hair out of his face again with a sharp jerk of his head. It just fell back in front of him a second later, and he let it be this time, seeming to give up on the futile effort. “I thought you were going to be busy all weekend.” He sounded almost apologetic. 

“I know.” 

“So what changed?” 

John didn’t answer, staring straight ahead as they walked, almost able to see his apartment building now. 

“Why’d you call, John? I’m glad you did, don’t get me wrong, but it was unexpected.” 

“You said you missed me.” The answer felt easy enough, but he knew that wasn’t really why he called. He had needed reassurance. The reminder that this was _real_ and that no matter what his father implied it wasn’t anything shameful or wrong. Words that his father would never outright use when talking to him, but that floated in the peripheral of his mind like shadows, knowing full well what the coded language really meant. Why else would he insist on covering things up? 

“I did. But that’s not why you called.” It was blunter than John expected, and he was pretty sure Alex wouldn’t have said it if he were sober and thinking a little clearer. Or maybe he was just tired of walking on eggshells. 

“I don’t know, alright? I missed you too.” 

“If that’s all it was, you would have just texted me or called me from your apartment or something.” 

He felt his chest constrict, and he glanced around, the streetlights all around him blurring until they were no more than stars in the darkness. “Can we talk inside?” The words came out clipped, and Alex shrunk back a little. He almost felt guilty, but couldn’t quite summon the emotion up over the tight, coursing panic threatening to overtake his senses as he focused on putting one foot in front of the other. 

“Sure.” Alex sighed, letting his head fall back as a feeling of unease shot through him, staring up at the sky, picking out the couple of stars bright enough that they shone through the light pollution. “I am glad to see you,” he finally said, facing forward again and resuming his previous pace as they neared the entrance to his building. 

“Me too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The no good very bad awful terrible day part two
> 
> Leave your thoughts in the comments <3 
> 
> Thanks for reading as always!
> 
> edit: lol the formatting in this chapter has been A MESS it originally posted with italics all messed up and now I just realized the breaks between sections are gone too oof


	10. Chapter 10

The two of them sat in John’s living room, white sofa and chairs contrasting with the dark hardwoods and a plush white area rug tying together the set. Alex shifted self-consciously on the couch, wondering how much grime his clothing had picked up from the bar. He had always been distinctly uncomfortable with how starkly white so much of this apartment was since the first night he had been invited over. The type of furniture you buy when you can just pay to have it deep cleaned or replaced if needed. He glanced at John, hunched forward with his forearms resting on his knees, hands clasped tightly together and his eyes on the floor. Decided to try again, now that he was inside his own apartment and the mask was starting to crumble. 

“How was dinner, John? Really?”

“Dinner was fine.” The words were quiet, lifeless, and he didn’t move his body an inch. Alex was about to throw in the towel when John spoke again. “Earlier in the day… not so much.” 

He remained motionless as he said it, a tense, panicked energy holding him perfectly still. _Pre-fight or flight response_ , Alex thought as he watched him. 

Alex didn’t know how to do this. Not really. He was good at talking, but this was something altogether entirely. His talents shone in schmoozing and impressing others. Explaining strategies and principles. Debating points of disagreement. Vulnerability wasn’t quite his strong suit, but he felt bile rise in his throat at the broken way John’s face twisted _just so_ when he got those words out, and it was enough to force him to respond. 

“What happened?” He tried his best to keep his voice calm, but the edge came through anyway. 

“He…” John squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s hard to explain.”

“I’ve got time.”

He let out a deep breath before trying again. “He asked if I was seeing anyone.” _That’s basically what he asked at least._

When he didn’t elaborate, Alex tilted his head, giving him a measured yet hopeful look, trying to give Senator Laurens the benefit of the doubt no matter how much it made his stomach turn. “Isn’t that a good thing? You said he knows. Sounds like he’s just trying to be involved.”

John shook his head, small jerking movements from side to side, and swallowed with difficulty. “He was asking,” John tried a third time, his voice sounding like it was coming from somewhere other than his own mouth as his knuckles grew white where his hands were gripped tightly together. The words came out slow, clear, cold. “If there was anything he might need to cover up.” 

“Oh.” Alex couldn’t help the blunt way it came out, and he stared down at his own hands now. 

“Yeah.”

“What’d you tell him?” 

John finally glanced up, not expecting the follow up. 

Alex’s gaze was intense, grasping at the question, needing to know almost as desperately as John needed it all to just go away for a while. 

“I lied.” 

Alex paused, looking back down at his lap. “Okay.”

“Is that what you wanted to hear?”

He pulled his head back up with more effort than it should have taken. “I don’t know.” Echoes of his earlier conversation with Hercules flashed behind his eyes. 

“Just tell me, Alex,” he pleaded, turning to the side just a fraction to look at him, something almost frantic in the way he held himself. 

“ _I don’t know, John._ ” He felt his shoulders pull back as the defensive wall started to go up. “Why do you want to know so bad? So you can tell me exactly what I want to hear like you do with everyone else?” 

The words were clearly fueled by frustration, his nerves already strung far too high, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret them in the heat of the moment. He thought for a quick moment that John might yell at him. Get up and kick something. Show _some_ sort of emotion. But the flash of anger in his eyes was only temporary before he stomped it out, pushing everything down with practiced skill. 

After maybe five minutes of suffocating silence, Alex got up from the couch, John’s eyes tracking him as he moved across the living room to the adjoining kitchen. He crouched in front of the stocked fridge, reaching around some leftovers to grab a beer, opening it before hovering a few feet away from the couch. Figured if John asked he could lie and say he was worried about spilling, rather than the truth that he knew if he did or said the wrong thing right now it felt like everything would shatter and it was easier to just keep some distance. Like the foundation of their relationship was made of glass and it was only a matter of time until he broke it. 

“You just came from a bar,” John pointed out unhelpfully. 

“Yeah, well, I went there in the first place because I was annoyed you weren’t responding to me.”

John stared, taken aback and trying to catch up with the different directions this argument was heading. “That’s not a _great_ way to cope.”

Alex gave a humorless breath of laughter, eyes hard as he watched him from across the room. “Sorry I didn’t have anyone around to teach me healthy coping mechanisms growing up. Not like you turned out much better.” He could feel the razor edge to the words, and even though he had said them with the intent to sting he was still a little surprised by how wounded John looked. His words were more defensive then angry when he spoke again. “You don’t get to pick me apart and then get offended when I dish it back at you. Look at yourself. Is _this_ healthy coping?”

“Did you just come over to fight?” And if John’s voice had even just a bit of spark in it with his last comment, it was gone again now. 

“No.” Alex ran his finger through the condensation on the bottle, needing somewhere to direct his eyes, something to do with his hands. “You sounded upset on the phone.”

“Well, you’re not exactly helping with that.” 

He flinched at the words and the emotionless way they were delivered, putting the beer on a coaster and dropping back down on the couch. Attempted to reel himself in as best he could, though it felt a bit like he was muzzling himself instead. Swallowed hard at the lump in his throat. “Got it.”

John let out a long sigh, leaning back against the cushions. “It’s been a long day.” 

“Yeah.” Alex wasn’t sure what footing they were on at this point, and he avoided delving into anything that had the potential to set things off again, carefully considering the safest things to say. “I missed you.”

John rolled his neck to the side so he could face Alex without lifting his head. “I know.”

Alex watched him carefully, trying to read his expression. The words were still flat, not teasing like he might have expected. “Do you want to talk about this?” The words came out slow, tentative. “We don’t have to. I’m fine if you just want to…” He chewed at his lower lip, unsure what the end of that sentence was supposed to be. “Whatever you want to do. I’m fine with it, John.” Maybe that wasn’t _entirely_ true. If it were up to him they would talk about it, yell and fight if they needed to, until they finally came to some sort of understanding. Because this? This radio silence and avoidance? It was like trying to stay balanced on a tightrope that constantly moved out from under him, and it would be so much _easier_ if they could just stand on solid ground instead. It didn’t have to be this hard. 

John closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath and trying to let go of some of the tension. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Okay,” Alex said, nodding and trying to encourage him regardless of the voice in his head screaming to pivot in the other direction. “That’s fine. Do you want me to go? I can head back to my place.”

“No.” His eyes were still closed, and his voice was soft. “You can stay.”

“What time do you need to leave in the morning?”

John shrugged, quiet for a moment. “Ten-ish?” 

“Okay. I can be gone before then. Do you want me to sleep out here?”

John blinked at him, processing the intent behind the question. “I’m not mad at you, Alex.”

He tried and failed to hide the surprise on his face, and he couldn’t quite work out if it was a lie or just a bizarre truth. “Okay, good. So?”

“You can sleep with me.” A small smile as he looked at him, still sad, still thrown off by the day, but he couldn’t help the way his heart pulled as Alex seemed so sincerely relieved to hear those words. 

Alex was awake long before John the next morning, scrolling through his email on his phone and finding it more than just a little annoying that he hadn’t had the chance to bring his laptop last night. He sat with his back against the wall on the floor, mug of coffee on the ground next to him, not quite ready to leave the bedroom yet. John was still asleep when his phone started buzzing on the nightstand where it was charging. He glanced over at the sound, waiting to see if it would wake him. When it started ringing a second time, he pushed himself up to his feet with a quiet sigh, softly walking over and glancing at the phone, his heart beating a little faster when he saw the contact lighting up the screen. 

“John.” He shoved at his shoulder roughly, then shook him a little. His face scrunched in half-awake confusion, squinting to block out the sun coming from the window. 

“What?” He pushed Alex’s hand off of him, scooching up the bed into a sitting position. 

“Your dad’s calling,” he said, tilting his head towards the nightstand. 

“Shit. What time is it?” He scrambled across the bed, pulling the phone from the charger and picking up the call before Alex had a chance to tell him it was just a little past nine. “Hello?” His voice was still gravelly from sleep, and he cleared his throat. Alex listened to the muted sound of a voice on the other end of the call, catching the way it lilted up in a question at the end, just a moment before John started speaking again. “Oh. Uh, yeah, sure.” He glanced frantically at Alex. “No, no it’s not a problem. I overslept a bit. I told you I wasn’t feeling well. I just need to shower first.” He worried his lip between his teeth as he listened. “Yes, that should be fine. Call me when you’re here so I can let you in.” Alex’s eyes grew wide as he caught on. “Yes, alright. I’ll see you soon. Love you too. Bye.”

John double checked that the call had ended before he tossed the phone on the bed. “Shit.” He buried his face in his hands, taking a quick moment to process before looking up again. “He’s coming over. Wants to see my place before brunch since he’s leaving right after.”

“You need me to leave.” It wasn’t a question. 

“I’m sorry.” It sounded genuine and frustrated, and Alex could only shrug as he quickly checked that he had all of his things. 

“It’s fine.” When it didn’t come out as convincing as he wanted, he repeated himself a little more emphatically. “Really, it’s fine. I have some stuff I need to work on anyway, it’s not like I was going to stay long.” He glanced around the room one more time to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. Noticed the half full cup of coffee on the ground and scooped it up to pour down the sink on his way to the door. He felt slightly disoriented as he moved about, the sudden rush to hurry up and get out affecting him more than he wanted to let on.

John followed him into the main living area of the apartment, watching as he pulled his shoes back on without untying them. 

“I’ll see you later?” The question was unsure, and his eyes were wide with the hope he was forcing himself to cling to, still wondering whether he fucked up enough last night to drive a wedge between their relationship. 

John crossed the space between them to grab his hand, pulling him closer and kissing him for just a moment. “Tonight,” he insisted. “I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof at least the very bad no good terrible awful bad day is finally over
> 
> Leave me some thoughts down below
> 
> Thanks for reading friends!


	11. Chapter 11

Monday morning rolled in gray and rainy, and Alex stared out the enormous window from John’s bed, not wanting to get up even before he looked outside, but especially now that he could see how dreadful the weather was. He rolled back over, hiding his face in a pillow and hoping the rain would miraculously stop by the time he got up. No such luck though, so he begrudgingly got out of the bed, dragging the small overnight bag he had packed with him into the bathroom. 

By the time he got out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair dripping wet, John was still asleep. Wrapped in a soft white comforter which Alex _still_ thought looked like it belonged in a hotel rather than someone’s bedroom. He dropped back down on the edge of the bed, not bothering to be careful as the mattress bounced a little under his weight. John shifted, finally pulling out of the depths of sleep with a quiet groan. 

“What time is it?” His voice sounded rough and groggy, and Alex smiled fondly before plugging his phone back into the charger on the nightstand. 

“Time to get up and get ready for work.”

John pulled his own phone closer, the comforter still tucked up under his chin as he checked the screen. “We have plenty of time.”

“Washington wants me to help get some stuff ready for the new guy before he shows up,” he admitted a little guiltily. 

“You’re not HR.” John turned back onto his side, closing his eyes again.

“I’m well aware. Just get up please.”

“You know it was a long weekend,” John mumbled, half of his mouth pressed against his pillow. “Now you’re making me get up early. You’re cruel.”

Alex’s mouth turned up in a silent laugh. “ _I_ have to go in early. _You_ can stay here if you want.”

“No.” His voice was still muffled, but it sounded like he was giving in. 

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“How?” 

“I don’t know. It’s a surprise.”

“You can’t say _I don’t know_ and then claim it’s a surprise. It’s not a surprise, you just don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Not _yet_. It’ll be a surprise for both of us, John.” He leaned over and kissed him lightly on the side of his head before getting back up. “I’m making coffee. Want any?”

“Yes, please.” He only got up to shower once Alex was already out in the kitchen, fiddling with the fancy coffee machine he had long since learned to use, not willing to go without while he waited for John to wake up in the morning. 

He glanced over his shoulder when he heard the bedroom door close. “Don’t take too long in there. I really do need to head over pretty soon.”

“I never take that long in the shower.”

“Yes, you do. Not all the time. But sometimes.”

“I’ll be quick.” He tugged off his shirt as he made his way to the bathroom, and Alex couldn’t help but stare at the hard muscles of his back and shoulders, forgetting completely about the coffee for a minute. When the door closed behind him, he shook his head to himself, turning back to finish what he was doing.

Washington glanced up from his desk as Alex walked into his private office, looking past him out into the rest of the open workspace where John was unpacking his things. Tracing his line of sight, Alex quickly closed the door behind him. 

“Good morning, sir.” 

“Thank you for coming in so early. I’m sorry the request was last minute.”

“It’s not a problem. What can I help with?” 

“I wanted to sort out the onboarding paperwork first to make sure everything’s in order. Did you eat breakfast yet?”

The sudden shift to a question caught him off guard, and he shook his head without a word. 

“I picked up doughnuts and coffee on the way over. It’s all in the kitchen. A thank you for your hard work.”

“Oh,” Alex said, genuinely surprised by the gesture. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t mention it. Go grab something to eat, and we’ll get started after that. And tell Laurens he can help himself as well. There’s plenty.”

Alex felt himself growing flustered at the casual way he brought it up, clearly having noticed that they showed up together long before anyone else would have arrived for the day of their own accord. The misstep played through his mind a few times. He belatedly realized he should have insisted John show up at a normal hour without him. _Oh well._ He hurried out of the room before he could say anything to make the situation more awkward for himself.

He stopped by John’s desk, his laptop already out and scanning through emails. “You hungry?”

“Are you leaving already?” He quirked an eyebrow, fingers still resting on the keyboard. “Because if you made me get up that early for nothing–”

“There are doughnuts in the kitchen. Washington said to help yourself.”

“Oh.” He froze up a little, thinking through the implications. “Shit, I should have stayed at the apartment.”

“Yeah, probably.” Alex shrugged, hoping that if he played it casual enough John would follow suit. “No helping it now.” When he didn’t stand up, Alex sighed, leaning his weight forward onto his desk. “Look, it’s fine. If he knows he doesn’t seem to care. And it’s not against any workplace policies or anything. Believe me, I checked.”

“Of course you did,” John mumbled, almost managing to sound amused. 

“Yeah, I checked your first day. Figured I’d probably do something stupid like ask you out and needed to be sure I wouldn’t get fired for it. Come on, get a doughnut with me. I rushed you over here before you had a chance to eat.” 

He allowed Alex to pull him up, following him to the small kitchen where, as promised, a dozen doughnuts sat out on a table. 

“He sprung for the good stuff,” Alex pointed out happily, grabbing a bright pink one that, according to the small flyer attached to the box, was hibiscus flavored. John picked one up as well, grabbing a napkin and walking back towards his desk, Alex close on his heels. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” John asked, taking a bite. “I mean, he knows I’m here. I feel bad just showing up for the free food.”

Alex smiled at him, glancing back towards Washington’s closed door and then leaning over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll pass along the offer,” he said, heading back towards the other end of the room before John had the chance to protest. 

Not long after, John had joined them, parsing through a small stack of papers while Alex double checked some of the French documents against what had been entered in their system, Washington standing behind him and watching as he tabbed through the entries on his computer. 

“Good to see those language skills you listed on your application are true.”

John smiled from the armchair a few feet away, continuing his own task and anticipating how Alex would respond to the suggestion that he wasn’t as talented as he looked on paper.

“Why would I lie about that?” He squinted at something handwritten, trying to decipher the words. 

Washington shrugged, even though Alex couldn’t see it from where he sat. “A lot of people lie on their resumes, Hamilton. Considering how many accomplishments you listed, I was worried you may have embellished.” 

“If I was going to lie I wouldn’t have put Hebrew on there. I would have chosen something more practical like Mandarin or something,” he pointed out, pulling the paper closer to his face as if that would help. Washington just chuckled, moving around the desk to sit on the side normally reserved for visitors or subordinates. 

“Everything looks correct on these,” John said, glancing up at the other two. “Did you want them filed somewhere, sir?” 

“No, that’s alright. Leave them on my desk for now. I’d like to have them available if needed later.” 

John nodded, crossing the small space to leave them next to the pile of documents Alex was working through. “Is there anything else I can help with?”

Washington glanced back at Alex and the rest of the papers, and shook his head decisively. “No, I don’t think the rest of this should take too long. If you don’t have too much on your plate today though, can you take over the surveys on immigration reform?”

Alex’s head whipped up at the question. “That’s one of my projects. I can handle it, it’s not a problem.” He looked downright annoyed at having less work to do. John would have laughed if he wasn’t worried it would earn him a glare. 

“Hamilton, I want your help training Lafayette today. In case there’s any language barrier, I’d rather you stay close.”

“If you just want me there to translate, I can do both. Just interrupt me when you need me. It’s not a big deal.”

Washington looked tired already, and it was hard to tell if it was from the early hour he had arrived or Alex’s typical stubborn insistence. “I’d rather you not split your focus,” he emphasized, injecting more finality into the statement. 

Alex looked like he was about to argue, so John spoke up before he could say anything he’d regret. “That’s completely fine, sir. I have the bandwidth for another project. Am I shared on the document?”

“I’ll send you the files,” Alex responded sullenly. He couldn’t help the lingering feeling he was being punished rather than rewarded for his talents, essentially relegated to babysitting duty instead of working with policy like he wanted.

Alex followed Washington down to the lobby to greet the new hire at quarter to nine, slightly wired on his third cup of coffee and still a little bitter from being pulled away from his other projects. He watched through the window as a goddamn town car pulled up to the side of the building and a young man stepped out, talking amicably with the driver for a moment before closing the car door and heading inside. He smiled as he spotted Washington, giving a quick wave and then holding out his hand, apparently recognizing him from either video calls or internet searches. “Bonjour,” he said with a wide, charming smile as he shook Washington’s hand. “It is good to finally meet you in person, Mr. Washington.”

“Yes, it’s nice to finally meet you as well, Lafayette. I hope you’re getting settled in New York.”

“Of course. I was glad to have the weekend to adjust to the time difference. Even this morning, I woke up far too early.” He shrugged, glancing between the two of them as he waited for an introduction, and Alex took the chance to clear his throat loudly. 

“Lafayette,” Washington started, seeming to finally catch on. “This is Alexander Hamilton. He’s one of my interns here. He’s going to be helping with your onboarding, and he’s fluent in French, so if you need anything at all, just ask.”

“Enchanté,” Alex offered, extending his hand. Lafayette took it firmly, getting just a little bit closer than he normally would have been comfortable with. He shook it off as a cultural difference and returned the smile Lafayette gave him. He couldn’t help sizing him up a little bit during the exchange. Taking stock of the freshly pressed outfit and what appeared to be an actual gold watch on his wrist. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Alexander. I appreciate the offer to help.”

A small part of Alex wanted to point out that it was more of a demand than an offer, but he simply held the friendly expression and nodded his head. “Not a problem at all.”

“Shall we head upstairs?” Washington asked, glancing between the two of them, and then towards the elevator. 

“Of course,” Lafayette replied easily, a sort of warm, inviting energy seeming to fall off of him in waves. Alex took him in again as they waited for the elevator, and was taken aback by how _young_ he looked. Certainly no older than himself, possibly younger. He gave off a strange mix of naiveté and confidence that muddled his actual age and made anyone he came into contact with immediately smitten. Alex tried to recall the date of birth from the identifying documents he had been reading earlier, but came up blank. He made a mental note to check them again once he had a spare moment. 

By the time the elevator doors opened on their floor, only a few people had filtered into the office. John glanced up from his desk as Alex swiped them into the space with his badge, his eyes tracking the three of them as they walked across the wide open room towards Washington’s office. 

“Hamilton,” Washington said, shuffling through the papers on his desk. “Where are those forms that need signatures?” 

He hadn’t even finished asking the question before Alex picked up a manilla folder from the edge of the desk and handed it over. 

“Thank you.” 

Alex was already rearranging the pages scattered in neat piles across the desk so they were condensed into one spot, dividing them by colorful tabs so they wouldn’t blend into one another. With the surface finally cleared of their earlier mess, Washington spread the documents out, offering the space in front of the desk for Lafayette to sit down. 

He dropped into the seat with a smile and a thank you and took the pen offered to him, signing each sheet where directed with a practiced flourish. 

“Are you hungry, Lafayette? There are doughnuts in the kitchen.” Washington extended a hand to collect the signed paperwork and sorted it all neatly in the folder before passing it back to Alex. He made a helpless gesture, unsure what exactly he wanted him to _do_ with it, but it went ignored. 

“Oh, thank you so much for the kind offer. I already ate before I arrived though. Perhaps in a short while.” 

“Sir? Where do you want these?” 

“Just find a place for them.” Alex made another, more irritated, gesture as Washington turned back to Lafayette, the two of them engaging in pleasantries and discussing where he went to eat that morning. 

He kept the folder clasped in his hand while they continued, deciding he’d just check in with the _actual_ HR staff and hand it all off to them when they got in for the day. 

“Hamilton? Can you help get Lafayette set up with his desk and laptop and everything?”

“Sure, where’s he sitting?”

“Use your best judgement and find a good spot.”

“Alright,” he answered a little sharply, wishing he had more of a plan than that. “Did anyone contact IT about setting up a laptop?” 

“I’m not sure,” Washington answered with just a hint of annoyance mirrored in his own voice. “I’m positive you can figure that all out though. Please, just make sure it gets done.”

He bit back a frustrated sigh and turned to Lafayette who was pointedly trying to pretend he didn’t notice the tension in the interaction. “Okay, let’s go. We can do a quick tour or something too because I’m pretty sure the guy who knows how to set up your laptop won’t be here for another half hour. And I know you already ate, but there’s coffee as well if you want any. Tu comprends?”

Lafayette practically bounced up from his chair, and Alex wasn’t sure if the eagerness was to get up and get started or to help him avoid whatever dumb argument he was about to get into with his boss. “Oui. A tour sounds lovely, and I would very much like some coffee. I will see you in a short while, sir?” he added, turning back to Washington who gave a genuine smile in return. 

“Of course. Let me know when you’re set up and comfortable.”

Alex motioned for him to follow, directing them out of the office and closing the door behind him before allowing some of the tightness out of shoulders and heaving a quiet sigh. “Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly, aware it wasn’t the _best_ first impression. “Came in early, and I’m a little tired.” Tired wasn’t the right word. He wasn’t tired, he was aggravated that he wasn’t being allowed to do his goddamn job. That wasn’t Lafayette’s problem though, and he held himself in check enough to avoid inadvertently pushing any of the blame onto him. 

“That is quite alright. Did you want to get the coffee first? It seems like you could use it.”

Alex cracked a smile and began heading towards the kitchen, Lafayette close on his heels. “Sure.” He slowed his pace a bit until they were side by side and turned to face him, feeling less on edge than he expected now that he had some distance between himself and Washington. “So,” he started, ready to dive a little deeper into Lafayette’s life over caffeine. “Tell me about yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAFAYETTE
> 
> Lemme know your thought in the comments <3 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

John leaned back in his chair at about half past noon. As he moved, he realized after the long period of sitting forward, pouring over his work, that his back was sore and tight in several spots and his shoulders were tense. He grabbed the water bottle off his desk and headed to the kitchen, needing an excuse to stretch his legs and pleasantly surprised when he turned the corner to see Alex leaning against the wall as a pot of coffee brewed.

He raised a hand in greeting, eyes boring into the coffee machine a little too intensely. 

“Does the whole ‘a watched pot never boils’ thing apply to coffee?”

“You’re hilarious,” he noted dryly, mentally urging the machine to go faster. 

“ _You_ agreed to come in early unlike some of us. Not sure why you’re acting so irritated.”

“I’m not.” When John just arched an eyebrow at him, he sighed and stood up straighter, pushing off the wall. “He’s got so much goddamn energy, John. He’s like a puppy or something.”

“Who?”

“Lafayette.” He glanced over his shoulder like he was worried he’d be standing there listening in. 

“Ah.” He quirked an easy smile. “Are you telling me _you_ of all people can’t keep up with him?” 

Alex looked downright affronted. “I can _keep up_. That’s not what it’s about.”

A few of the other interns came into the kitchen at that moment, carrying takeout bags and heading over to one of the tables. John had the instinct to take a step back from Alex, but he brushed it off. They weren’t even standing _that_ close, and the last thing he wanted was to bring up any hard feelings from the other night. 

Will broke off from the others, pausing next to the two of them. “Hey, how’s it going?” He directed the next part towards Alex. “I basically haven't seen you all day. I thought you had called in sick or something until I saw you sitting over with the new guy.”

“It’s going fine,” Alex responded in a bitter tone that was entirely unconvincing. 

John rolled his eyes at the response and Will just laughed. “Sounds like it. How’d you get roped into that? You don’t normally help with that sort of stuff, right?”

“No.” He pulled the coffee pot from where it rested and poured himself a cup, realizing a little belatedly that it had finished brewing. “Washington was worried about translation issues. Lafayette’s from France,” he added as explanation, taking a tentative sip and jerking away when he felt it burning the tip of his tongue. He cursed under his breath before continuing. “I don’t why he bothered though, his English is good enough. Not perfect, but he’d be able to manage fine on his own.”

“Maybe he just wanted to make sure he had a friend,” Will suggested. 

Alex considered that for a moment and shrugged. “Whatever.” He looked over at the digital clock on the microwave and swore again. “I’ve got to go. We’re getting lunch.”

“You and…?” John prompted, surprised and a little annoyed he hadn’t mentioned the change of plans. 

“Lafayette.”

“Didn’t you just say you’re sick of him?”

“No,” he insisted pointedly. “I did not. I actually kind of like him. He’s nice. Really interesting to talk to. Just because I’m annoyed I have to babysit doesn’t mean I think he sucks. Plus Washington said he’d reimburse the meal as a business expense since I’m showing him around or whatever, and I’m always down for free lunch.”

“So it’s about the food,” Will commented with a snort. 

Alex just gave half a shrug and turned to John. “Do you want to come with us? I’m sure it’d be fine.”

John looked hesitantly between Alex and Will, overthinking the situation. “I don’t know,” he said carefully. “I don’t want to intrude.”

Alex just laughed, rolling his eyes. “You’re not _intruding_. Christ, just come with us. Seems like everyone else already got food,” he added, looking down at the takeout bag in Will’s hand. “And it’d be good to have some more company so I don’t go out of mind trying to keep him entertained.”

John doubted Alex would have trouble keeping up a conversation, but he felt his resolve slipping all the same. “Alright. You should double check with Washington and make sure it’s okay.”

Alex waved him off with a dismissive noise. “It’s fine. I’m almost positive I can get your food reimbursed too, and _honestly_ he kind of owes me a favor after texting me at five in the morning to ask if I’d come in early.” He glanced towards the rest of the office, and then back at their small group. “We should head out though. See you later, Will.”

“Yeah, later.” Will headed back over to the table where the other couple of interns he had arrived with were already eating, and Alex headed back towards the main open office space with John a step behind him. 

“You ready?” he asked, glancing down at Lafayette who was leaning back with his chair turned sideways as he typed something out on his phone. 

“Yes,” he said, still typing and not getting up. “One moment.” 

Alex tapped his foot against the ground and looked at John helplessly. 

“Okay.” He put the phone back in his pocket and glanced up, noticing John for the first time. “Oh, hello!” 

“Hey. John, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well, John. I’m Lafayette.” He held out his hand as he got to his feet, and John returned the gesture. 

“John’s coming to lunch, alright?”

“Oh, wonderful! Do you think anyone else wants to join us?”

“No.” Alex motioned them towards the elevator, patting his pockets to make sure he had his wallet and phone with him. “Most people already picked up lunch, and Washington probably doesn’t want me inviting half the office for free food.”

“I could pay for them,” Lafayette suggested, the genuine offer enough to make Alex laugh. 

“Generous, but no. We’ll make sure you’re invited the next time we go out for drinks. You’ll get to meet everyone, don’t worry.” Lafayette perked up at that, and was smiling again as they got into an already crowded elevator, briefly pausing conversation in favor of the collective awkward silence. 

“So,” John said as they filed out into the lobby and could turn to face one another again. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere with four dollar signs when you search for it on Google.” Alex glanced over his shoulder to make sure both of them were following before he continued. “Some Italian place. I know where it is, don’t worry,” he added as he saw John give him a skeptical look at the vague answer. “Figured Italian was a safe bet for anybody.”

“I’m not a picky eater,” Lafayette chimed in, adjusting his stride so he could stay next to the other two as they walked. Luckily the rain had subsided and the clouds had cleared a bit, leaving behind a mild day in their absence. The only thing to suggest the rain from earlier were puddles and pedestrians still toting their umbrellas with them. 

“Well, I didn’t know that this morning when Washington told me to pick a place to get lunch.” He glanced at the street signs as they passed an intersection, quickly counting out how far they’d have to go before their next turn. “It’s got great reviews.” 

“How’s your first day going?” John asked, deliberately keeping enough space between himself and Alex to make sure he wasn’t giving anything away.

“It’s been going well,” Lafayette answered, beaming. “Alex has been a great help. I doubt I would even have my computer set up by this point if it were not for him.”

“Someone should have had that thing set up by IT on Friday,” Alex griped, moving a little closer to John as they passed a slower group in front of them. “I couldn’t believe it wasn’t done already. At least they were quick about it.”

Lafayette hummed an affirmative noise, pulling out his phone and glancing down at it, suddenly distracted and typing again. 

Alex moved closer to John a little more deliberately this time, brushing against him lightly enough that it could have been coincidence. 

And even though it _could_ have been a coincidence, John was quite sure that it was _not_ a coincidence. He glanced over at Lafayette, but he didn’t seem to be paying them any mind, so John didn’t step away. Allowed Alex’s hand to keep carelessly brushing against his hip as they walked. 

“It should be up this street here,” he said suddenly, pointing across the intersection. John jerked to a stop and Lafayette looked up from his phone again. 

“Which side of the street?”

Alex paused, clearly trying to remember from when he looked the place up earlier, then gave up and pulled it up on his phone instead. “Oh shit, other side. Cross now while we have the light.”

Once they were safely on the opposite corner of the intersection, the three of them filed into a small restaurant. Casual enough, yet with an obvious air of affluence. Alex walked up to the host and mentioned their reservation and they were ushered over to a table against the side of the large dining room. John sat next to Alex without thinking about it, closer to the wall, and he turned a little so he could face the other two more easily. Someone was back before they even had a chance to really settle into their seats with water and offered to take a drink order. 

John wondered what it would be like to take Alex somewhere like this, rather than the pubs and bars and occasional clubs they usually frequented after work and over the weekends. He had never expressed a ton of interest in anything more elegant, and John had been hesitant to bring it up. Unsure of the exact guidelines surrounding how to talk to Alex about money and going someplace expensive. Worried he’d either feel self conscious or laugh at the idea, and he wasn’t sure which would be worse. But at least right here, right now, he looked perfectly at ease. One hand resting lightly on the table as he leaned forward in conversation with Lafayette. John became increasingly aware that he should also be talking with the two of them, and he pulled himself out of thoughts slowly, like swimming up through deep waters back to the surface.

Alex smiled at him as he accidentally made eye contact, and it was impossible not to return the gesture, so he covered it up a bit by interjecting himself into the conversation a little clumsily. “So, where are you staying in the city, Lafayette?” 

“Oh, my family owns a place in New York. Right next to the park.”

“It’s like, _on_ Central Park basically,” Alex added insistently as his eyes scanned the menu in front of him. “I looked it up earlier after I retyped the address into Washington’s computer for the fifth time.”

“Really?” John couldn’t help but sound impressed as Alex showed him about where it would fall on the map he had up on his phone. 

“Yes. I’m lucky we have the apartment here. It made the move much easier.”

“I’m sure.” John smiled in agreement. “So, is everything set up and furnished already too, then?” Lafayette nodded before taking a sip of his water. “That’s nice. Definitely better than having to deal with unpacking and all that when you’re still trying to adjust to a new living situation.” 

“How many square feet is it?” Alex asked, setting his menu decisively aside. 

Lafayette shrugged, looking unsure. “I’m not sure. It’s large. It’s a…” His forehead creased as he couldn’t come up with the English word. “Attique?”

“A fucking penthouse? Shit,” he said, lowering his voice. “I probably shouldn’t swear in here. Too classy of a place for that.” 

John shot him a look, wondering if he caught the irony in what he just said. If he did, he didn’t comment on it. 

“Well, if you ever want guests, feel free to invite me over. I’d love to see what an actual New York penthouse looks like,” Alex said, halfway between sarcasm and seriousness. 

“You can’t just invite yourself places, Alex.”

“It’s alright, John,” Lafayette said placatingly. “You can come over too.”

“That’s not–” He cut himself short, deciding the clarification wasn’t worth it. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Lafayette responded, smiling brightly as their server came over to take their orders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New! Friend! 
> 
> Leave some comments down below <3 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

Alex hadn’t expected to be invited over to Lafayette’s place _so soon_ , but when he brought up the idea at the end of the day he didn’t have any reason to say no. And he didn’t _want_ to say no. He liked Lafayette and figured seeing what his apartment looked like would be an interesting experience at the very least. 

They arrived at the building, a monstrously tall thing with gilded doors, and followed Lafayette in as he made small talk with the sharply dressed doorman. Alex couldn’t help craning his neck to stare up at the elaborately painted ceiling and the intricate detailing and moldings. “This place is incredible,” he said with absolute sincerity. Lafayette didn’t offer anything in response, just smiled as Alex looked around them in awe. 

After a few moments of allowing him to drink in the splendor, Lafayette glanced over towards the far side of the room. “The elevator is that way, if you’d like to go up?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Lafayette said cheerily, leading the way. “I know it is a lot to take in.” 

“Bit of an understatement,” Alex noted with a laugh, his arm just barely brushing against John’s as they walked. They stepped into the spacious elevator car and Lafayette pulled a key from his pocket, using it to access his floor. A fleeting thought passed through Alex’s mind as they climbed upward, glancing over at John and wondering what it’d be like to get a blow job in an elevator as fancy as this one. After all, the trip up to the top floor of a building like this was bound to take awhile. He took a steadying breath, trying to clear his head so he wouldn’t get too carried away by the fantasy. _Not the time._

Now that they were all stuck in one place, Lafayette was jabbering away again, and Alex forced himself to pay attention to some story he was halfway through about some trip with his friends back in France. John, unlike him, was doing a much better job at listening, nodding along and laughing at intervals. Leaning back against the wall with his shoulders stretched back a bit, his shirt straining a little more tightly over his chest than normal. _Shit._ Alex closed his eyes to steady himself _again_ and didn’t open them until he was sure he could resist staring so blatantly. He looked up just in time to see the doors slide open to reveal a lavishly decorated wide open space with envious amounts of natural light shining through tall windows and skylights. He actually felt his eyes go wider at the sight of it all and had to force his feet to move as the other two stepped inside. 

“ _Damn._ ” It was all he could think to say as his brain tried to take in the sheer amount of luxury surrounding him. Granite countertops and glittering appliances, elegant furniture juxtaposed against the best electronics money could buy. A fucking balcony _and_ a personal rooftop patio. 

“It’s a beautiful place,” John commented, sounding much less affected, though still impressed. And _of fucking course_ he wouldn’t find all of this as jaw dropping as Alex did. It probably wasn’t that far off from his childhood home back in South Carolina. The thought stabbed insecurity at his chest, and he took another steadying breath, though this one for a much different reason. 

“Would either of you like anything?” Lafayette asked, already pouring himself a glass of water. “There are drinks in the fridge as well.”

“Water’s fine,” Alex said, crossing over to the kitchen as well and hovering beside him. 

Lafayette handed him the full glass and grabbed another for himself. “John?” he called over his shoulder.

“I’m alright, thanks.”

Alex wandered towards the patio door, his gaze still scanning the room, trying to absorb every detail. His eyes catching on shelves filled with books and expensive looking knick knacks. A crystal light fixture hanging over the dining area. Ornate rugs with patterns so complex they would look tacky if they weren’t so obviously high quality. 

“Would you like to go outside?” Lafayette asked, noticing how he had stopped just by the door. “It’s lovely out now that the rain has stopped.”

“Yeah, sure. John?” He looked over his shoulder expectantly and waited until John nodded and followed them out.

Alex did a lap of the space, taking in the gardens and multiple seating areas, outdoor lighting and decor. The view of the skyline that you normally only get to see in movies or pictures, because it just doesn’t look like _this_ from the ground. “God, this is so fucking _extra_.”

John snorted a breath of laughter, and Lafayette turned to Alex with his brow scrunched in confusion. “Extra?”

“Uh, like over the top? Do you know that phrase?”

“Oh! Yes, I do.” 

“Yeah. This place is amazing.” He walked over towards the half wall that separated them from the edge of the roof, just staring out at the city. From up there, it all seemed so big yet so small at the same time. A giant maze of tiny, interlocking parts, seamlessly flowing and working with one another. From a distance, it was like a machine. You knew the parts were inside of it, complex and prone to break, but you couldn’t see any of it. All you saw was the finished, final product. None of the dirty, gritty pieces that truly made it function. He stared down at the street below, impossible to pick out individual people from this height. He startled a bit when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and John was suddenly next to him, his hand resting on the top of the wall, almost touching Alex’s. They both stared out at the city for a few minutes. Impossibly quiet from way up high. New York was loud and abrasive, but this was strangely peaceful. 

“You two make a cute couple.” 

Alex turned around first, his face going red and his body language all defensive panic. Spur of the moment, he couldn’t think of anything better to say than, “What?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He seemed more skeptical than apologetic, despite the words. “I didn’t mean to assume.”

“We’re uh– we’re not–”

John finally turned around now, looking embarrassed, but more or less composed. “Alex, it’s fine.”

“What?” he repeated, aware that he was beginning to sound like a broken record. His face was still hot, and the question was as much from surprise as an actual question because he _wasn’t_ entirely sure what John meant by _it’s fine_. 

“Is it that obvious?” John asked, facing Lafayette with a hint of anxiety in his eyes. He was standing up straight, but his shoulders were hunched in just a little.

Lafayette looked between the two of them and opted to take a more diplomatic route than answering the question outright. “I spent a lot of time with Alex today. I just picked up on things. I’m very good at reading people.” 

Alex couldn’t tell if John was reassured by that answer or not. He looked tense still, holding himself with too much restraint to seem at ease, but he didn’t press the point. 

When Lafayette turned back to look at him again, Alex had enough of his faculties about him to add, “People at work don’t really know about it. So, if you could keep this between us, that’d be great.”

When Lafayette smiled, all warmth and understanding, he felt the panic finally begin to melt away. “Of course. I won’t tell a soul.” He paused. “Is this sort of thing not allowed?”

Alex’s brow furrowed in confusion for a second before he realized he was talking about relationships between coworkers. It was John who answered the question, seeming to grasp what he was asking a little more quickly. “It’s not against any workplace rules. We just don’t want anyone to know yet.” _We_ , Alex thought to himself, was not the correct word. _He_ had no problem letting people know. 

Lafayette looked between the two of them again and Alex wondered just how good he actually was at reading people as his gaze lingered just a little too long. “Alright. Thank you for telling me.”

“We didn’t,” Alex pointed out, leaning back against the wall on his elbows now that the moment of panic had passed. 

“Well, thank you for being honest with me. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah.” Alex glanced briefly at John and then back. “Me too.” He took a deep breath, looking back at him again, but there was no discernible change in his expression. Alex wondered if he even caught the subtle dig. “Fair warning, you’re gonna have to listen anytime I want to talk about this now. That’s the price you pay for being the only one who knows.”

“I’m going to grab a glass of water,” John announced suddenly, his voice tight, turning back towards the door and heading inside before either of the other two had a good chance to look at him. 

Alex faltered for a minute before turning to Lafayette. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.” When he got inside, John was standing at the counter, full glass of water in front of him, but not making any move to either take a drink or head back outside. He had a hand pressed to his face, his eyes shut. 

He waited until he was halfway from the door to where he stood before speaking. “John?” He opened his eyes with a start, but didn’t say anything. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he said, picking up the glass and making like he was about to leave before Alex interjected. 

“It’s clearly _not_ nothing.” He let out an irritated sigh. “What’s your problem? He’s not going to say anything, so it’s not like you need to worry about your dad or whoever else finding out.”

“I fucked up, that’s what my problem is.” His voice was coming out faster and with a sharp edge to it now, but he grudgingly kept the volume low. “If Lafayette noticed that easily, after only _one day_ –” There was something hard in his eyes now, like burning steel. “Shit. How am I supposed to keep this up? I can’t even hide it from people at work.”

“You don’t need to. Christ, John. If you just stop worrying about it, things will work themselves out.” He could hear his tone getting a little more desperate as he continued. “What’s the worst that could happen? Your dad gets a little angry you let the cat out of the bag? That shit will blow over eventually. Just get it _over with_ so you can move on.”

“You don’t get it, Alex!” He slammed his palm on the counter, causing Alex to take a step back in shock. “It’s not just about making him upset, alright? It affects more than just me and him.” He was shaking a little bit as his voice rose, but he didn’t bother trying to hide it now that he was finally getting the words out. “You’re not an idiot. Think it through. How do you think something like this–” he motioned between the two of them “–would affect his reelection campaign? Do you think it _wouldn’t_ get picked up by the press? You understand the politics. You understand the voter base down there. And even if it doesn’t affect his chances I still don’t want that. For me. For my brothers and sisters. I don't want people talking things they have no right talking about. You know this shit has consequences, and my whole family will be dealing with them. _We’ll_ be dealing with them too.” He gave a short, frustrated laugh, glancing down where his palm was still shaking against the counter. “Maybe it’d be an asset if he was running in a more liberal state like New York, but I’m just not that lucky I guess.”

“So what then?” Alex shot back, his gaze reflecting back the fire from his speech. “What’s your endgame here, John? Are you just never going to tell _anyone_?”

“Of course not.” He didn’t make eye contact, defensiveness prickling his skin. “I will eventually. Just not yet.”

“Does your dad have any plans to retire from politics in the near future?” Alex was shaking a little now too, and he clenched his fists as John shook his head. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. _Jesus fucking christ_ , how long are you going to string me along for? Is it just going to be _not yet_ over and over again until you get sick of me?”

“No.” John sounded hurt now, desperately trying to cling to his own words, convincing himself they were true even as the back of his mind cast doubts like shadows over his heart.

“ _Really?_ ” The question hung between the two of them long enough for the air in the room to grow stale, thick with anger and uncertainty. 

Long enough for Lafayette to tentatively open the sliding door, sticking his head inside and looking cautiously between the two of them. “Is everything alright in here?” When neither of them answered right away, he stepped more fully inside, still hesitating near the door, as if he was afraid he would spook them with too much sudden movement. 

Alex looked up at John, waiting to see if he would say anything. After all, if either of them _wasn't fine_ it was him. But he was frozen where he stood, lips resolutely closed as he steadied himself, still shaking a little bit where his hand connected with the counter. 

“Yeah. Everything is great.” He couldn’t hide the seething sarcasm from his voice even if he tried, and he wasn’t trying very hard. He turned to John, waiting for him to say something. _Anything._

But instead of responding to Alex’s jab, he turned to Lafayette. “I have to get going,” he said abruptly, barely managing to sound apologetic as he grabbed his bag. “Thanks again for having me over. I'll see you both tomorrow.” He barely glanced at Alex before turning and pressing the button for the elevator, the doors opening surprisingly quickly. 

Once he was gone, an uncomfortable quiet settled over the room. Alex’s brain told him to go after him. Call out and tell him to stay and talk. Follow him down to the lobby. Invite him back to his apartment to finish the conversation. But they were transient thoughts, passing almost as quickly as they came. In just a second all of the possibilities flashed through his head, but the most appealing to him in the moment was to say _fuck it_. Why should he have to be the one to follow after him? If he was upset, it was his own damn fault, and he could have stayed instead of running away. _Fuck._

He heard Lafayette set his empty glass down on the counter and turned sharply to face him, almost forgetting he was in the room, which was slightly ridiculous considering it was his apartment. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Alex bristled at the slight pity in his voice and the way his eyes were searching, trying to read him. Instead of answering the question, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I feel like I’ve made a real shitty first impression.”

Lafayette just shrugged, not entirely willing to deny it. “It’s fine,” he said honestly, finally taking a few steps closer so they weren’t speaking across the entire room. “I didn’t mean to say anything to make either of you upset.”

“You _didn’t_ ,” he insisted, trying to sound as reassuring as he could given how worked up he still was from the argument. “I actually thought at first that you saying something had helped. Of course that couldn’t last.” He sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to drop this all on you. Hope I didn’t scare you off. Washington will kill me if you quit because of something I did.”

“You’re mad at him too,” Lafayette pointed out, one corner of his mouth quirking up. 

“Shit you’re right. Almost forgot. You better watch out, seems like I’m on a real hot streak getting pissed off at people.” He managed to crack a smile as Lafayette breathed a quiet breath of laughter. 

“I’ll make you a deal. If you don’t start fighting with me as well, you can complain about everyone else as much as you want.”

Alex laughed for real at that, feeling some of the stress seep out of his shoulders. “Deal.” He tried to push the thoughts of his argument with John to the back of his mind. _Tomorrow’s problem_ , he told himself resolutely, following Lafayette back outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp they were okay for like a day 
> 
> Lemme know your thoughts in the comments! 
> 
> Come chat on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls
> 
> Thanks for reading friends!


	14. Chapter 14

The thing about putting off problems until the next day, is it works better when it involves some personal issue or a task that you don’t have the time or energy to complete. It doesn’t work quite as well when _the problem_ is another person with their own thoughts about everything that’s been said and done and has now had more time to stew in those thoughts without any intervention. John showed up to work the next day having done exactly that the entire night before. He purposely avoided eye contact when Alex looked up as he walked through the office doors. Didn’t say a word as he made his way to his desk and pulled out his things for the day. Normally, on the rare days they didn’t show up together, they would head to the kitchen and talk for a few minutes over coffee. A simple ritual that set things in motion for the day. The conspicuous absence of that small routine felt almost as jarring as the argument from the day before as John sipped on his coffee, purchased at a small shop a block over, determined to not even invite the opportunity for Alex to meet him in the kitchen by avoiding it entirely. 

He made it about forty five minutes before _anyone_ bothered him. During that time, he was only half focused on the article on his screen, meaning to pull the relevant data points he needed but instead thinking back through his own words. The ones he said and the ones he didn’t say. Trying to decide whether he regretted any of it or not. Wished he could have gotten across how _goddamn hard_ this all was. Like his entire path from childhood to now was laced with booby traps, just waiting for him to take a wrong step and set everything around him into destructive motion. Like everyone was just waiting for him to fail, and somehow being honest felt like proving them all right. 

But now it was forty five minutes into his morning, and he was pulled out of his own spiral of self doubt when Lafayette tapped him on the shoulder, startling him as he pulled his headphones out and turned around to face him. He was hyper aware of the fact that after he left the night before, Alex and Lafayette had been left alone. Had no delusions that they _hadn’t,_ talked about their argument. He felt his own body react to the nerves buzzing inside of him at the thought, and he wished he had his own office, or at least a damn cubicle, so he could hide away for a while. 

“Can you help me with something? I’m not sure if I have access to a certain database I need to use.”

“Why don’t you ask Alex?” He was aware he sounded bitter and childish, but couldn’t quite stop the words as they fell from his lips. 

Lafayette raised his eyebrows, but thankfully didn’t comment on the tone. “He’s busy.” He motioned over to his desk which was indeed empty at the moment. “And you can help me with this as easily as he could. If you’d prefer, I could ask someone else.”

John sighed, but stood. “No, it’s fine.” 

“Are you upset with me?” he asked, his tone light and pleasant, as they crossed over to where he sat. His face didn’t betray any hint of the accusation generally expected to accompany those words.

John wasn’t expecting that direct of a callout to his own passive aggressiveness and blanked for a moment. “No,” he said carefully. “Why would I be?”

Lafayette shrugged, otherwise ignoring the question. “That’s good. I would hate to think I had done anything to make you angry with me.” He sat down in his chair, swiveling back to face his laptop, and John felt a little bit like he should _say_ something about all that, apologize maybe, but then Lafayette was talking again. “See, it is this site here. I try to put in my credentials and…” He typed them out and hit enter, the site redirecting him to a screen telling him the combination didn’t exist, and he made a short frustrated noise. “See?” 

“Oh.” John leaned forward, reaching in front of him to refresh the page. “Yeah, that one uses a company wide account rather than individual logins. I can write it down. Do you have a post-it or something?” He handed him a scrap of paper and pen. “Thanks.” He wrote down the username and password and slid it back over, watching as Lafayette tried again and smiled wide when it worked this time. 

“Thank you, John.” He looked up at him a moment in thought. “Will you get lunch with me later?” 

John couldn’t directly _ask_ whether Alex would be there. Not without completely giving away his hand. Luckily he didn’t have to, Lafayette seeming to anticipate what he was thinking. “It would be just the two of us. I still don’t know many people well, and Alex will still be busy I believe. What time works best for you?”

He was distinctly struck with the fact that he hadn’t even agreed yet, but answered anyway. “Around one?”

“Perfect.”

Alex had an unusually light schedule when he arrived to work that morning. A fact he quickly remedied by practically begging Washington for more tasks. He knew letting his mind wander right now would be ill-advised. His commute had been bad enough, little to keep him occupied as the service cut in and out on his phone. Had tried reading, but he couldn’t keep his thoughts on the words in front of him, the pages quickly blurring into an incoherent jumble, clearing space in his brain for thoughts of the day before to flood back in. 

So now he sat on the floor of Washington’s office, stacks of folders surrounding him as he sorted them into something resembling order. He leaned across the chaos around him to grab another off of the low shelf to his right, laying it open in his hands and scanning through its contents. It was tedious work, but it was better than being distracted by his own incessant thoughts. At least here he was shut away, _hiding_ , where he wouldn’t glance up and see John pointedly ignoring him once again. 

“Hamilton.” Washington’s head was still down, staring at the screen in front of him and frowning with concentration. “Have you eaten yet?”

Alex glanced at his phone, tapping the screen to check the time. Half past one. “I’m not particularly hungry.” He honestly didn’t know if that was true. He hadn’t stopped for long enough to catalogue his basic needs in a while. 

Washington heaved a sigh, but didn’t argue the point. “Well, if you do get hungry please take a break. None of that is urgent, and I’d rather not deal with the consequences of you passing out in my office.”

Alex scoffed, opening up another folder. “I’m not going to _pass out_. Anyway, I had a big breakfast this morning,” he lied. “I’m fine.”

The room quieted again as Washington went back to typing. Now that it had been brought to his attention, Alex noted with annoyance that he was actually hungry. He looked up at the door with trepidation and decided food could wait. Avoiding John as much as realistically possible while they were in the same office seemed more necessary at the moment. 

“How does that even work?” John asked, resting his fork on a paper plate. “Your family didn’t know you were moving here? Didn’t they help to arrange the whole thing?” He remembered Alex mentioning something about his family connections. 

“I was able to get in touch with Washington through people I knew.” He shrugged, chewing and swallowing his bite of quesadilla before continuing. “But I didn’t tell many people about those conversations and didn’t tell _anyone_ that I was planning on accepting a position here. I think they would have been upset with me… or at the very least tried to convince me to stay in France. I didn’t want to risk them talking me out of it.”

John shook his head slowly in disbelief. “I don’t think I could do it. I’d feel too guilty.”

“I _do_ feel guilty,” Lafayette admitted, his eyes raised up towards a distant spot on the ceiling as he thought back on it with a rueful expression. “I had to do it though. Haven’t you ever had something in your life where you needed to go ahead and do something regardless of the consequences?” 

John felt suddenly nervous, a little paranoid that this whole conversation had been orchestrated to drag him back to this question. “Not really, no.”

Lafayette studied him for a moment, and John felt a swell of self consciousness inside of him. He turned his face to the side, watching people filter in through the door of the restaurant. Trying to fix his mind on anything besides this conversation, too worried that Lafayette would see right through him. “You should talk to Alex.” When John didn’t acknowledge him, he pressed on. “He couldn’t stop mentioning you last night, even when he was trying not to think about you. It was endearing, if a little pathetic.”

He felt a conflicting fondness rise in his chest and did his best to push it aside. “He was being a dick.”

Lafayette looked very much like he was refraining from rolling his eyes as he shrugged one shoulder. “I wasn’t in the room, so I can’t say one way or the other. I can tell you both like each other very much though, and avoiding him instead of talking about things isn’t going to make you feel any better.” The slightly patronizing words would have irked John more if he hadn’t sounded so earnest. 

“He can talk to me if he wants,” he said sharply, his face starting to heat up as he grew more defensive. 

“He’s worried he will bother you if he keeps talking when you don’t want him to.”

“Did he tell you that?” John shot back, again wondering just how thoroughly they discussed him last night after he left. 

“No.” Lafayette took another unaffected bite of his food. “It’s just obvious, John.” He hesitated for a moment then pushed forward. “The way you shut down and left yesterday… I’m guessing that’s not the first time that’s happened?” 

John thought back to the weekend. He hadn’t _left_. He hadn’t made Alex leave either. But in his own mind he couldn’t help being honest with the analysis of the situation, and really, he might as well have left with the way he blocked out the conversation. Put an abrupt end to any discussion to ease his own mind. Wasn’t that the same as running away?

He deflected instead. “Why should I stick around just to get yelled at?”

Lafayette sighed, staring into his eyes with a focus that was disconcerting. “I’m not saying he handled everything correctly either. Again, I wasn’t in the room. But retreating from difficult situations is no better than acting out when faced with them. You need to find a compromise.”

John propped his elbow on the table, leaning his forehead against his palm. “I don’t have a compromise yet. Not one that he’s going to like. That’s why I can’t have this conversation with him. He’s going to keep telling me all the ways I’m fucking up and want to know what I’m going to do about it, but I honestly _don’t know_ what I’m going to do. I know that’s not fair to him, to expect him to just keep waiting for me to figure it all out.”

Lafayette tilted his head to the side. “It’s not fair to expect you to know how to handle it right away either. I hope this doesn’t make you too uncomfortable, but Alex explained some of the situation to me, with you and your father, and I think he’s wrong to be so cavalier about your concerns. It’s different for him. He didn’t spend his whole life pretending to be someone he’s not.”

In the silence that followed, John considered his words, running them through his mind over and over again. He had never thought of it that way. Alex had never had to worry about how family would react or not living up to somebody else’s assumptions of what he should be. Of course he wouldn’t be able to fully grasp the intricate details of John’s predicament, the realities he was facing when he stared down the barrel of this particular gun. The way the thought of disappointment made his stomach clench and his heart beat out of his chest. They had lived two completely different lives up until now, and for as many struggles as Alex faced growing up, this particular brand of paternal expectation was something he never had to contend with. 

“Are you finished with that?” Lafayette asked, motioning towards his half eaten food. “We should probably be heading back. I have another training session that’s starting in twenty minutes.” 

“Yeah.” John handed him the plate as he gathered his own trash and held out a waiting hand, watching as he deposited it all into the closest trash can. 

Lafayette patted his shoulder a little awkwardly as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. “Thank you for the conversation. You’re a much better listener than Alex.”

John laughed a little, feeling somehow lighter as he shoved his hand away. “Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress??? Maybe???
> 
> Leave some comments please and thank you 
> 
> Come chat on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	15. Chapter 15

“Hamilton,” Washington said, abruptly pulling Alex from his thoughts as he pushed the chair back from his desk. “I’m heading out for the night. Are you about finished with that?”

He glanced at the stack of binders laying in front of him on the floor, only halfway through checking them for necessary updates. The damn things hadn’t been touched for years and it was a time-consuming task. One that he had brought on himself admittedly, completely unprompted, in an effort to keep himself away from the shared space that the interns occupied. “No,” he said, his voice flat as he marked his place. “I can bring these out to my desk though if you need to lock up.”

“It’s nearly seven o’clock. You should head home as well.” Washington gave him a measured stare, and Alex felt himself grow flustered as he looked away, busying himself with putting the binders he had finished with back on the shelf. 

“I’d rather stay for a little while, sir.” He hoped he didn’t sound as frantic as he felt. He had managed to stay in Washington’s office practically the entire day. He was honestly impressed with himself. It seemed a miracle he had managed such an extended stay without doing or saying anything to get himself kicked out. He had kept himself busy the entire day, and he wasn’t too fond of the idea of going home alone with a whole lot of time to _think_. “If it’s all the same.” 

Washington crossed the room, pulling his bag from the hook by the door. He looked like he was about to leave when he paused, turning back around. “None of that is urgent, Hamilton. Please just finish it tomorrow morning.”

“There’s a backlog of emails from clients as well. I could work through some of those if it’d be a better use of time. It’d be nice to be ahead on them for once. Or I could do some research on relevant policy issues for the next election cycle. Type up some notes and suggestions.”

Washington took a deep breath and closed his eyes, perhaps praying for patience. When he opened them again, it was with a look of exasperated surrender. “Just make sure you get some sleep tonight. Bring those binders out if you want, but I do need to lock my office.” He waited for Alex to gather everything before opening the door, ushering him through so he could finally leave. 

He didn’t head for his own desk until Washington was out the main door, so he didn’t notice the one other person still sitting there until they were completely alone. His mouth suddenly went dry. He felt backed into a corner. Trapped. Logically he knew he _wasn’t_ trapped. He could grab his things and leave. Could lug his work into one of the conference rooms. Could continue to ignore what was bothering him. Could try to tune out the pounding in his chest. Then again, he was never one to back down from a challenge, and what else could this be other than a challenge? Why else would John be sitting here, waiting for him? 

He glanced up slowly as Alex dropped the binders onto his own workspace with a thud, only a row of desks separating them. Well, that and the invisible wall that went up after their argument. John didn’t say anything yet, but didn’t look away either. He waited, as if trying to decode Alex’s expression. He must have seen some hint to push forward, because eventually he cleared his throat. “Hey.”

It was only one word, but it was more than they had said to each other all day, and it felt something like a peace offering. “Hey.”

“Busy day?”

Alex gave him a wry smile. “You could say that.”

“Look, Alex.” John’s voice was sharper than he expected, and he straightened his spine at the tone. “I’m sorry for storming out yesterday. I was on edge and upset.” He hesitated for a moment. “It’s not an excuse. I get that it was still a dick move to just up and leave. I just needed to clear my head, and I couldn’t do that at Lafayette’s apartment.” He had pushed his own work aside now and was watching Alex with trepidation as he spoke. His cheeks were tinged pink and his curls were starting to fall into his face from where they had been tied back earlier in the day. 

“Did you?” Alex managed to maintain eye contact, staring down at him from where he still stood, one hand resting on the stack of binders. 

“Did I what?”

“Clear your head?”

John chewed at his lower lip. “A bit. I’m still upset I guess, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m sorry for how I handled it but... “ He shrugged, unsure how to explain exactly why he was still frustrated and angry. It had been so much easier to talk about it with Lafayette. Where the feelings were less heavy and the stakes were lower. “I didn’t really know what else to do.”

“You could have stayed and told me what your plan is.” He eyed John warily, knowing there was a good chance he’d piss him off enough that he’d get up and leave again. “I want to know John. I want to know that you have a plan and that _this_ isn’t forever.”

John swallowed hard, but didn’t look away. “I don’t have one. I’m sorry,” he said, his voice tight with barely concealed frustration now. “God, I wish I did. I’m still trying to figure it out, Alex. It’s so damn complicated.”

“We’ve all got complicated shit to deal with, John.” He let out a sharp breath and finally closed the gap between them, walking over and dropping into the empty seat next to him. “Look. I’m not totally oblivious. I know you think there’s no way I could understand all this family shit.” He couldn’t help the hard edge creeping into his words. He couldn’t explain to John why the assumption cut him in different directions all at once. “But it’s not like I _never_ had a family. And I get the concern over people being shitty just because of who you are. I understand how just existing can fuck up your family’s reputation. People are awful. I _understand_ that.” Of course he fucking understood that. How could John not see that he understood that? He had known that being different was an excuse for persecution his whole life. Since his earliest memories on the island. Since long before John even had the slightest idea what being gay meant. The only difference was, he couldn’t hide from it. 

John blinked at him, trying to take in the words. Just when it looked like he was about to respond the lights suddenly shut off, surprising them both. 

“Mother fucker,” Alex snapped, standing up from the chair and waving his arms until the motion sensor caught the movement and switched the lights back on. “Do you want to continue this somewhere else? The cleaning people are probably going to show up soon, and I don’t know about you, but I’d feel a little weird having this discussion in front of strangers.”

“Yeah,” John agreed, finally shutting his laptop and starting to pack his bag. After a moment of reflection, he spoke again. “You don’t talk about it a lot.”

“Hmm?”

“Your family. Your childhood.” His voice was soft, like he was afraid just speaking the words out loud would remind Alex that he’d slipped up and got too deep. 

“No. I don’t,” he said, keeping the answer deliberately short as he picked at a hangnail, waiting for John to get up so they could leave. When he just continued to watch him, Alex let out a deep sigh. “What?” 

John looked like he wanted to say something else. Ask him something more. Instead he gave a small shrug and finally got up, shouldering his bag and heading towards the doors. “Your place or mine? Do you have all your stuff?”

The question reminded him that his things were still laid out on his own desk. So were the damn binders. He considered bringing them back with him, all too aware how much of a fuss he had made about staying and finishing things up, but the thought of lugging them on the subway was enough of a deterrent. He threw a displeased glance at the stack before shoving them into his bottom drawer. Tomorrow’s problem. He had more important things on his mind right now. 

“We can go back to my place.” It was a self serving offer. He knew it’d be easier to have any difficult conversations in his own space and was relieved when John nodded, already holding the door open for him. “You staying over?”

“Probably,” John said with a soft smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“You want to grab clothes and stuff before we head over? I don’t mind if you want to stop by your place real quick.” He was fidgeting with his hands as they waited for the elevator, his nerves running faster through his body now that they weren’t talking about heavier topics. The promise that the conversation would continue was enough. 

“You don’t mind?”

“I said I didn’t.”

“Alright,” he said as they stepped into the elevator. “Sure. That sounds good.” They were both quiet a moment as the machinery carrying them downwards whirred in the background. “I should really take you up on that offer to clear out a drawer. It would make things much easier.”

Alex blinked up at him in surprise as the doors opened again. “Bring over whatever you want. I’ll make space.” 

John leaned back against the headboard, Alex tucked up against his side, his breathing coming slow and soft. It was hard to tell if he was actually asleep or not. He was normally up much later, his mind too restless to simply shut off, but then again, he hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep over the last couple of days. John reached over him, trying to grab his phone from where it sat on the nightstand, and accidentally jostled him a little. 

Alex shifted beneath him with a sleepy groan and rolled over onto his back, squinting his eyes open as he stared up at him.

“Sorry. You can go back to sleep.” He kept his voice low, not wanting to wake him more fully if he was finally able to get some rest, but the damage was done. 

He gave a soft sigh and blinked his eyes open a little more. “No, I’m awake. What time is it?”

“Eleven-ish?” 

“Shit.” He rubbed at his eyes before pushing himself up so he was sitting next to John. “My sleep schedule is fucked.”

“That’s no different than normal,” John pointed out, the corner of his lip twitching up. 

Alex turned his face and buried it in his shoulder, groaning again. John could feel his breath tickling across the fine hairs on his skin and smiled a little wider, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “What was that for?” Alex asked, his voice muffled. 

“Thanks for letting me come back here. I know it’s not the easiest thing to talk about.” He glanced down at Alex as he turned his head to the side a little, leaning back to look up at him with wide brown eyes. The same eyes that distracted him and made him lose his train of thought every time they were out with friends or when he accidentally caught his gaze from across the office. God he was distracting. In the best possible way. “I appreciate it though. I appreciate _you_ ,” he clarified. “For listening. I know I’m not where you want me to be yet with all of it... “

“You’re here in my bed. Right where I want you to be.” 

John breathed a soft, slightly exasperated laugh. “Alex. You know what I mean.”

He shrugged, the movement made difficult by the fact that he was still pressed up against John’s shoulder. “You’re gonna have to figure it out eventually.” He nuzzled his cheek against the warmth of his bare skin. “Just know, when you do, I’m willing to help. You don’t need to shut me out.”

John felt his chest clench with a simultaneous wave of anxiety and affection, and he brought his other arm around to pull him close against his chest, hearing the soft breath of surprise from Alex as his cheek was pressed against his heart. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter that ends on a positive note??? 
> 
> Happy Friday!
> 
> Lemme know your thoughts in the comments friends!
> 
> Come talk on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls and get important life updates on things like my work's weekly rock paper scissors bracket


	16. Chapter 16

The rest of the week Alex and John fell back into a familiar rhythm. Nights spent together, mornings rushing into the office half an hour before everyone else, subway rides sitting close and talking the whole way, lunch breaks out at their favorite spots, late evenings catching up on the work Alex would have previously done while working through lunch, back to one of their apartments, and repeat. It was comfortable. Almost too comfortable. Alex’s skin itched at how easy it felt, knowing anything that felt easy was nearly always too good to be true. Found himself picking arguments, ones he knew he could win, just to keep things a little complicated. Enough that the simplicity wouldn’t break him. 

“Let me read that over before you send it,” he said, standing over John’s shoulder as he typed out a brief. 

“Don’t you have your own work to do?”

“Yeah. So?” He leaned forward a little, trying to read through some of it and noting with annoyance that he’d have to get a new contact prescription soon. 

“It’s fine, Alex. I know what I’m doing.” 

“In that first section, the formatting is weird.”

John leaned back, giving him an irritated look. “Chill. I’m going to edit it when I’m done. _I know what I’m doing._ Go do your own work. Or bother someone else at least.” He turned back to his screen, already typing again and doing his best to ignore Alex still hovering over him. 

Alex stifled the instinctive frustrated noise he wanted to make. Knew that wasn’t the most professional way to act in the workplace, and didn’t want to draw too much attention over to the two of them. Instead of going back to his own desk he dropped into the empty seat next to Lafayette. “I’m bored.” 

Lafayette finished what he was typing and looked up at him with raised brows. “Did you run out of things to do? I thought you had about ten different projects going on.” 

“No, not with that.” 

Lafayette squinted his eyes at him, waiting to see if he would clarify. “Alex. What in the world are you talking about?” 

“I’m bored. Just–” He felt frustration hit again when he realized he couldn’t go into this here with other people around. “Just with other shit. Life. I don’t know.”

“You’re bored with… life?” Lafayette continued to stare at him. 

Alex gave a short huff of annoyance and ran a hand back through his hair. “Bored isn’t the right word. Come get coffee with me.”

“You need me to go to the kitchen with you?” 

“No, out somewhere. Please? I need to stretch my legs.”

Lafayette gave him a questioning look but closed his laptop. “Do you want to get John?” 

“He’s busy,” he said, a little guilty. It wasn’t a lie. He _was_ busy. Even if that wasn’t why he didn’t want to invite him. 

“Alright,” he responded slowly as he grabbed his wallet and keys off the desk. “You’re acting weird. Did something happen?”

“No.” Nothing had happened. That was the problem. Nothing had happened in a few days and for some reason that was so goddamn irritating. 

“Alright…” Lafayette held open the door for him, and Alex just barely caught John looking up as they left. 

Once they were out of the lobby and on the street, Alex let out a long suffering sigh.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Or do I have to guess? This could be a very long game if you don't give me any hints.”

“I told you I’m _bored_.”

“You said bored wasn’t the right word,” Lafayette reminded him. 

“Yeah, that’s true.” He looked up instinctively as a droplet of water from an AC unit hit his shoulder. “Restless maybe? Not quite right either. Unsettled? Perturbed? Apprehensive? I don’t _know_ , Lafayette. Do you ever feel like you’re doing things just to make life more difficult for yourself?”

“No, I prefer not to do stupid things. It makes life less enjoyable.” He was trying to keep a straight face, but he couldn’t quite hide the way his lips twitched as he held back a smile. 

“Thanks, asshole.” 

“You are very rude,” Lafayette said dramatically, but he gave him an amused look all the same. 

“Yeah whatever. I’m _trying_ to tell you something.”

“Ah, yes, sorry. Go ahead.”

He felt nerves tingle in his chest again, knowing the thing he wanted to admit was really goddamn stupid. “Where are we getting coffee from?” he asked instead, realizing he wasn’t quite sure where they were going. 

“I was following you.” 

Alex shoved his hands in his pockets. “Uh, there’s a place on the corner. We can go there.” He glanced down at his shoes, kicking a small pebble. “So, yeah. It’s hard to explain. Things are going well with John. Real well. Thanks for talking to him by the way.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So, things are going well, and that should be a _good_ thing, right? Why the hell wouldn’t it be a good thing? Even the shit with his dad isn’t bothering me as much. I don’t know. We’re good right now.”

Lafayette shook his head slowly. “So, your problem is that everything is going well with your boyfriend? Alex, I think you might need to check the definition of the word problem.”

Alex let out an exasperated groan, frustrated at his own inability to get the point across. It wasn’t normally an issue for him. “No, _that’s not the problem_. It’s that I don’t know how to be in a relationship where things are going well. It makes me nervous. I’m going to do something really dumb at some point and fuck it up. I can feel it.”

“Well,” Lafayette said slowly, as if trying to explain something simple to a child. “If you can feel it coming, then just don’t do the stupid thing, Alex.”

“I can’t just not do it,” he argued back, his voice rising in frustration as they got to the corner and Alex yanked the door open, holding it behind him until Lafayette grabbed it and followed him in. “Because things aren’t _supposed_ to be this easy.” They stopped at the end of the winding line. “Not for me at least. Life is just one battle after the next. If there’s no fight, if things are easy, it just feels _wrong_.”

Lafayette gave him a level look, then glanced to see if the people around them in line had been listening to any of that. If they had been, none of them were obviously reacting to the outburst. “That’s depressing,” he noted flatly, turning to maintain eye contact as he spoke. “You realize that’s not how you’re supposed to feel right? When you love someone–”

“I don’t–” Alex cut him off then faltered, his face turning red. “Jesus, we’ve only been going out what? A month and a half? Can you not talk like that?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot how insecure you are.” 

Alex rolled his eyes and crossed his arms tightly across his chest. “Fuck off. We haven’t been going out that long. Just drop it.”

“Alright. Well, when you _like_ someone you’re not supposed to feel like you need to constantly be fighting for it. That’s very unhealthy.”

“Thanks for the therapy session,” he grumbled, inching up in the line a little. “But I can’t _help_ it. It’s like my skin is just itching for a fight. When things feel too settled my brain just starts picking every little thing apart. Finding things that are wrong because _of course_ something has to be wrong. There’s always something. And the only thing that makes that little nagging voice go away is arguing. It’s like, once I start fighting with him, my brain realizes everything’s not in fact perfect, and then it shuts off the alarm and lets me breathe for a few hours.”

He stepped up to the counter to place his order before Lafayette could respond, taking a deep breath as he handed over his cash to the barista. He waited towards the side for Lafayette, then the two of them sat down at a high top table. Lafayette didn’t waste any time continuing the conversation. “That’s not good, Alex.”

“I’m well aware. Thanks.” He dropped his arms onto the table and slumped forward.

Lafayette pursed his lips together, thinking. “You need to get to a place where you’re okay with feeling comfortable.”

“Alright. That’s really helpful considering I have no idea how to do that.”

“Have you never had a point in your life where you felt content? Ever?” Lafayette eyed him carefully, leaning forward against the table. 

“Not really. Not that I can remember. Unless you count after sex.” He laughed a little, but cut himself short when he saw the disapproving look Lafayette was leveling at him. “No? Okay.” His expression grew more serious as he thought over the question, reaching back into his memory for any hint of an answer. “I don’t know, Lafayette. Being content with things was never really an option. Not for me. If I was ever content with anything I would grow stagnant, you know? And that wasn’t something I wanted to do. I needed to get out, and the only way out was up, and the only way up was to never be satisfied with where I was. Even once I got to New York, I couldn’t be just okay. Not like other people were allowed to be. I couldn’t be content with just getting a degree. It’s always been this race to prove myself. To be bigger and better every step of the way. I had to be the best, the smartest in every room, because the odds were already stacked against me. There’s no space for comfort there. Contentment isn’t an emotion that plays well with ambition, and I guess you can judge me for that, but the fact of the matter is I wouldn’t be here right now if I hadn’t put all of my energy into fighting for myself.” The barista called out their names, and Alex hopped off his chair, grabbing both the drinks and handing over Lafayette’s. “We need to head back,” he noted checking his phone for the time. “Sorry, I know coffee was my idea, but I don’t have a ton of free time today.”

“We didn’t even solve your problem,” Lafayette complained, disappointment evident in his voice. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to solve it. You don’t have to fix everyone you know.”

Lafayette made a noncommittal noise, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“Sorry. I just wanted to bitch. Been in a weird mood all day.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind the complaining. I just wish I had some advice for you.”

Alex patted his arm reassuringly with his free hand as they left the coffee shop. “It’s okay. I’ll figure something out. Or I’ll just keep pissing John off. One or the other.”

“Please don’t make him upset with you again. You’re both more enjoyable company when you’re not fighting.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

John tried to keep his focus on the brief in front of him. The same one Alex had been critiquing. The formatting _was_ off. He fiddled with the document settings as he frowned at the screen, trying to get everything to line up correctly. He lost his focus again as Lafayette and Alex came back in through the doors, both holding a coffee and chatting for a few more seconds before they split off towards their own desks. He watched Alex pull his laptop back out, logging in and immediately settling back into his work as he sipped absentmindedly at his drink. John pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

\--John: Where’s my coffee? 

He watched as Alex picked his own phone up from where it rested on the desk beside him. Saw him crack a smile and start typing. 

\--Alex: Shit. Sorry. Want mine?   
\--John: That’s alright. You owe me though  
\--Alex: Owe you waht?  
\--Alex: *what  
\--John: A favor

He put the phone down, scrolling down the page in front of him to check over the rest of the document. For the slightest moment he considered sending it to Alex to double check before he submitted, but then he remembered his comments from earlier. He wondered if he actually thought he couldn’t finish the work properly on his own. He knew when it came to things like this he wasn’t quite at Alex’s level. No one was after all, but still it was a pretty standard part of their job to put together things like this, and he had never heard any negative feedback from Washington. He chewed the inside of his cheek as he doubled down on his own review, making sure everything flowed smoothly and looked professional. Checked that all the sources were cited appropriately and that any spelling and grammar errors had been caught and fixed. Held his breath for just a moment as he pressed submit. Checked his phone again. 

\--Alex: What kind of a favor?  
\--Alex: Since you’re not responding, I’m assuming it’s the dirty kind 

It was hard to keep his laughter tamped down, but he did his best, offering just the quietest breath of a sound. 

\--John: Whatever kind of favor you want Alex  
\--Alex: Five oclock can’t get here soon enough  
\--John: ...are you actually leaving at 5?  
\--Alex: ……...probably not

John smiled again, fond amusement tugging at his heart as he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going into my 17th week of quarantine and missing people, places, and things. Send love <3 
> 
> Leave thoughts down in the comments friends!
> 
> Come chat on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	17. Chapter 17

Alex sat up on his knees, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. John was spread out on the mattress below him, his breath coming quickly as he tried to calm himself down, already getting close just from his mouth. 

“God, Alex,” he breathed quietly, turning his head to the side and shifting his hips up a little, chasing friction that was no longer there. 

“I’m ready to give you that favor now.” Alex gave a self satisfied grin, appreciating how strung out he already looked, flushed and hard and gloriously naked. He leaned down again, unable to resist, and pressed kisses up his flank, groaning softly at the feel of hard muscle and bare skin under his lips. 

“The blowjob wasn’t the favor?” John asked with a shaky laugh, bringing a hand down to wind fingers through his hair. Squirmed a little when Alex bit and then tongued lightly at his abs. 

“No, the blowjob was because you’re hot.” He sucked a spot into the skin just above his hip. “Want to give you more than just that.”

Yeah?” John’s voice hitched as Alex moved up to his chest, continuing to mark and kiss wherever he could reach. “What did you have in mind?” 

“Whatever you want, John. You know where I keep stuff in the closet. Use whatever you want. _Do_ whatever you want to me.” He had ideas of course. His mind never _stopped_ coming up with various fantasies of the things he wanted John to do to him. And the things he wanted to do to John. The thousands of ways they could get each other off. He had a few suggestions in the back of his mind in case John wasn’t in the mood to play along. In case he didn’t want to be in charge. But _god_ that’s what Alex wanted. His cock twitched at the thought of him, making demands and holding him down against the mattress. 

Luckily, he took to the suggestion easily, heading over to the closet and rummaging through the box on the floor. Alex turned, craned his neck to try and see what he was doing, but he couldn’t get a good view with the angle. “I’m serious. Whatever you want,” he repeated, raising his voice a little to make sure he could hear him across the small space. “None of that’s off limits. There’s a reason I have all of it.”

“You’ve cleaned everything since the last time you used it, right?” He glanced over his shoulder, waiting. 

Alex scrunched his face, thinking it over. “Yeah? I think?” 

“Reassuring,” John noted dryly. 

“I mean. I’ve cleaned anything that would have gotten, you know, anything on it.”

“That mental image isn’t making it better.” 

“It’s all clean enough. I promise. Just get back over here.” 

John made a noise halfway between annoyed and disgusted, but joined him on the bed again after nudging the box back into the closet with his foot. “Are these clean at least?” He dropped a ball gag and blindfold on the mattress. “Specifically the gag. I’m not letting you put that thing in your mouth if it’s not clean.”

Alex snorted, earning him a disapproving look. “Sorry. Just. Do you wash your dick every time before I blow you? I’m pretty sure I’ve had worse in my mouth.” 

“I’m about to make you go wash it right now if you want to keep going with this.”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s clean. I’m pretty sure…” He thought back, his memory catching on some one night stand from months ago. “Yeah. I definitely cleaned it.” 

John still looked skeptical but he didn’t argue. 

“You sure you want to gag me?” He asked, trying to mask how seriously he meant the question with a lighter tone. “Don’t you like listening to my voice? Hearing me beg?”

He hummed a low noise in agreement, but shook his head contradictorily. “I think it wouldn’t hurt for you to be quiet for a while.” He smirked at him, running his finger along the faux leather strap of the gag. “After all, this is a favor to me, right? Don’t want you interrupting it.”

“Interrupting it _how_?” he asked, sounding affronted. 

“Just like that. You can get so argumentative. Even during sex.” Alex flushed, embarrassed he had picked up on it. “Come here.” He motioned for him to turn around, and Alex did so, stubbornly keeping quiet. Felt John reaching around him before he saw the gag in front of his vision. “Open,” he commanded simply.

“Are you _sure_ –” Alex started, only to be cut off by John pressing the ball past his lips, stunning him into momentary silence. He couldn’t see John’s face, but was sure he was laughing at the reaction. At his goddamn timing. He felt him buckle the strap at the back of his head, carefully moving his hair aside so it wouldn’t catch. 

“Is that alright?” Alex considered playing up his petulance, but didn’t want to risk him taking him seriously. Nodded after a beat. “Good. Can you turn around and tap your hand twice for me?” 

Alex raised his eyebrows but did so, tapping his fingers against the mattress in quick succession once they were face to face again. 

“Good. Can you do that if you need to stop?”

Alex rolled his eyes, wanting to tell him this _wasn’t necessary_ , but unable with the gag stretching his mouth open. He had done way worse than a little bit of gagging and blindfolding. 

“Alex. I’m serious. Just in case.” When he gave him an annoyed look, he sighed, running his thumb back and forth against the side of his thigh. “Humor me?”

He groaned a frustrated noise, but nodded. Some deep seated more logical part of his brain realized it shouldn’t bother him this much to be careful, but caution always felt suspiciously like weakness. He felt the irritation thaw a little as John pressed a kiss to the side of his face, right above the strap gently digging into his cheek. 

“Thank you.” He picked up the blindfold now, deft fingers turning his head to the side to get a better angle and setting the second buckle in place as well. The world fell dark around Alex, the cheap, fleece lined material working surprisingly well to render his eyes useless. As he waited, he made note of the fact that he should invest in some better gear if John was into all of this. He had always wanted nicer stuff, but hadn’t found it practical to buy anything more high quality. Who knew if he’d be using it long term after all? He idly wondered how much it’d cost to replace a few items. Started doing the math in his head when he was suddenly pulled back to the moment by John’s hands on his chest, pushing him back against the mattress. He felt his cock prick up at the novelty of the sensation, being touched, maneuvered, without being able to see it coming. Delighted at the idea of being under John’s mercy a little bit.

He could feel soft fingers trailing over his skin, starting at his chest and ghosting lower, inching their way down so lightly it almost felt like it was a trick of his mind. They stopped just short of his cock, resting gently where the lower muscles of his torso dipped down towards his groin. He made a soft pleading noise into the gag. He was sure John wouldn’t give in that easy, but knew the effect would be appealing regardless. And the quicker he got John turned on, the quicker he’d get to fucking him. He felt him lean down, his breath just barely tickling his skin, and Alex thought for the faintest moment that he was _actually_ going to go ahead and blow him. His dick twitched in anticipation and he shifted his hips upwards a little, but instead of those warm lips on his cock, John pressed a kiss to the top of his thigh. Then another. Alex whimpered as he sucked a dark spot into the skin before moving to the other side. And _fuck_ as much as he wanted him to touch his cock, it felt good. _Lips, tongue, teeth._ All pressing into his skin, sucking, biting, igniting fire in veins. He moaned around the gag as John almost broke the skin before pulling away again. He wondered what his body would look like when John finally took off the blindfold. Little reminders of their activities left behind for the next morning, red and purple and tender to the touch. He moaned again at the thought of it, bringing one hand up to clumsily wind through John’s hair, desperate to touch. The overwhelming sensations of just _feeling, receiving_ as he laid still were too much when he couldn’t even see or speak. He needed something to ground him. 

But then John was sitting back up, out of reach, and his hand fell down to the mattress again. “God, you’re attractive,” he said in a low, almost reverent voice. Gave an appreciative hum at the responding groan from Alex. “You look so damn _good_.” 

He shifted a little, and Alex could feel his weight hovering just above his legs where he straddled him. It was maddening to know he was so close but not be able to see. He considered his options for a moment, deciding to take a risk. He tried to lunge up and grab him, to pull him back down. But it was a poorly calculated move. Even _with_ all his senses he wouldn’t have had much leverage, and without his sight John was easily able to dodge him, press him back down by the shoulders before grabbing one wrist and pinning it by the side of his head. As frustrating as it was to be taken down so easily, at least he was touching him again. He felt his face flush with a combination of exertion, embarrassment, and arousal. 

“Alex,” John said now, his voice a low, dangerous whisper by his ear. “This is supposed to be a favor, remember?” He leaned his weight a little more heavily on top of him. “Even gagged, you’re still finding ways to make this difficult. Do I need to tie you up too?”

Alex gave a filthy groan at the suggestion, but shook his head. Being bound would make certain activities more difficult, and he wasn’t sure yet where John wanted to take this. 

“Good.” He released the hold on his wrist, and Alex didn’t move it. 

He could practically feel John’s eyes on him in the moments that followed. No talking, no sound at all, just perfect stillness as Alex practiced as much self control as he could muster. Finally, after what felt like far too long, John’s hand came to rest on his thigh as he spoke. 

“If you’re so eager to move, I think we can work something out.” He laughed at the muffled noises coming from behind the gag, unsure if they were supposed to be questions or expletives. “Here,” he said, shifting off of his legs and reaching a hand down to pull him up into a sitting position. Watched as he subtly stretched, adjusting to the new position. “You good?”

Alex nodded emphatically. He was pretty sure if John stopped _now_ even the gag wouldn’t be able to stop his complaints. 

“Okay.” Alex could hear the smile in his voice, the way his eyes softened when he looked at him a little too long. He stayed there just a moment, just long enough for Alex to start questioning what his plan was, before the weight on the mattress shifted again. He could hear John moving, repositioning himself. Alex stilled his own breathing so he could try and listen more closely. He could feel John’s legs stretching out, brushing up against his own thigh. “Come here,” he said, patting what Alex could only imagine was his own lap, the sound sharp in the otherwise quiet apartment. “Face away from me though, alright?”

He felt his face flush redder as he maneuvered himself, awkward without his sight as he felt around for where he needed to place his legs as he straddled John, feeling extremely exposed from this angle. 

“Lean forward.” It was a gentle command, but it still sent shivers through him. He braced himself on his forearms. Held his breath as he waited, heard the click of a bottle opening, his muscles clenched on nothing as anticipation coursed hot through his blood. Then, _finally_ , he felt John move closer, press a finger at his entrance. He let out a low moan, angling his hips back to try and urge him closer. “ _God, Alex._ ” 

He slipped the finger inside, slick with lube. Too impatient to really take things slow, he pressed all the way in and didn’t miss a beat before pulling back out, setting an immediate tempo that was drawing eager noises from Alex as he twitched his hips in time with the movements. He faltered when John paused, a frustrated, confused sound coming from low in his throat behind the gag, but it quickly changed over to a loud groan when he slipped a second finger in beside the first. 

Alex was practically panting below him. He was moving as much as he could to offer additional friction now, desperate for _more_. Thought about how if he didn’t have the damn gag on he’d be begging by this point. Telling John to hurry up and _get on with it_. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. He gave a muffled sigh of relief as he felt those fingers pull out of him. Was expecting John to sit up and line his cock up against his ass. Twisted his head to the side and whined a little when, after a moment’s pause, nothing came. 

He heard John laugh again, light and breathy, and _fuck_ he wished he had the use of his mouth right now. Needed to tell him to stop being an ass and put his dick in him already. 

“Sit up, Alex.” He did so, a little confused, pushing back up onto his knees. “Now turn around.”

Once he was facing him again, straddling him and hovering just above his lap, he felt a hand reach out, fingers tracing along his collarbone. He jerked in surprise, then shivered at the sensation, light brush of skin on skin. “You wanted to move right?” His voice was low again, seductive, and Alex felt his stomach clench. He nodded enthusiastically, aware of how desperate he must look. His face flushed, hair a mess, body tightly strung with desire and heat. He nearly jumped when he felt John’s hand reach down, adjusting himself so he was pressing up against him, and fuck when did he even have the chance to get lube on his dick? He whined around the gag, the sound coming out high and needy as he waited. 

“What are you waiting for, Alex? You wanted my cock right? Go ahead and take it.”

_Damn_ if that wasn’t the most enticing thing he could have said. Alex let out a filthy groan in response, carefully lowering himself as John helped to guide him, one hand on his own cock and the other on Alex’s thigh, gently pushing him down. He went slow, relishing the feeling as his flesh parted, John’s cock stretching him until he finally settled into place at the widest point. Alex only paused for a second before sinking lower, managing to take about half of him before he shifted back up a little, then down again, trying to work himself open, adjust to the pressure splitting him open. 

“Yes, Alex,” John breathed out, already shaking and unsteady. 

The words were all the encouragement he needed. Alex took a deep breath and sunk down the rest of the way, feeling arousal stab sharp at the slight discomfort as he adjusted to _too much_ all at once. He moaned low in his throat as he ground down against him, feeling the fullness inside of him. _Fuck_ it felt good. He heard John suck in a sharp gasp as he tightened around him, and the sound only urged him on. He lifted up, feeling the heat build inside of him at the drag of skin against his insides, and then sunk back down, slowly working up a pace that had John moving in rhythm with him, shallowly rocking his hips up. Building up to something that had both of them tumbling into a sea of pleasure, lost in the feel of each other, more and more unreachable to the outside world with each thrust and roll of hips, the delight of skin touching skin, the impact of each movement. John had started rambling now, uttering praises and semi-incoherent exclamations. Alex was almost jealous, wishing he could return the sentiment and determined to at least try with the breaths and moans coming muffled from behind the gag, growing louder and sharper with each hit of John’s cock against his prostate. Desperate to show him how goddamn amazing it felt with the way he threw his head back and doubled down on his own movements, rising and falling faster and faster until finally, _finally_ , he felt John’s hip stutter and still inside of him. Alex reached down to grab his own cock, and a couple of strokes was all it took as he continued to ride him through his orgasm, toppling over the edge and coming over his own hand and spilling onto John’s stomach and chest. 

He took a moment, falling still and breathing heavily, waiting for his mind to clear. Waiting for the loose feeling in his limbs to fade into something more useful. When he eventually felt able to move again, he lifted himself off of John, giving a small grunt of discomfort as he felt his cock slip out of him. Then he fell backward onto the mattress, too exhausted and sated to bother with the gag or the blindfold. 

After a moment he felt John sit up, untangling their legs and moving over to the bottom edge of the bed where Alex was. Felt a hand come up to his face, tracing fingers along the straps. “Lift your head up,” he told him softly. That seemed like too much effort, so Alex rolled it to the side instead, giving him enough access to the back of his head to remove first the gag and then the blindfold. Even in the relative darkness of his apartment, the light was too much, and he buried his face in the mattress for a moment while he stretched his jaw, wiping his mouth against the sheet. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned once he finally felt like he could speak, his voice a little hoarse from lack of use. He cleared his throat before continuing. “That felt good.” He flipped over onto his back, blinking up at the ceiling, appreciating how, for the moment, all he could think about was how content he felt, his brain not quite able to catch up with everything yet. Unable to work fast enough to come up with a million other things that were more important than laying here and admiring what they had between the two of them.

John leaned down to kiss him, and Alex relaxed into it, too blissed out to even feel self conscious about the fact that his face must have been a mess after having the gag on so long. John had a warm smile on his face as he pulled away, and Alex couldn’t help the way his heartbeat sped up at the sight of it. “Thank you,” he said, voice still soft, almost soothing in the stillness of the moment. 

“Anytime.” He rolled over onto his other side, facing John now as he pressed himself closer for another kiss, parting his lips and pressing his tongue against him, silently asking for more and all too pleased when John gave it to him, pushing back and deepening the kiss, bringing one hand up to twine fingers through his hair and lightly grip the back of his head, keeping him close. When they finally broke for air again, Alex let his head drop back down, a little dazed. “Anytime you want a favor, please go ahead and take it. Don’t even care if I did anything to warrant it.”

“Mmm, alright.”

Alex knew he had to clean up. They both did. He could feel the mess drying where he had spilled on his own hand and the tops of his thighs. But he couldn’t bring himself to get out of the bed. As uncomfortable as it should be laying on the wrong side of the mattress with no pillows, it wasn’t. He felt perfectly at ease. 

At least he did until John rolled off the bed next to him, carefully standing up so he didn’t get the sheets any more dirty than they already were. Alex was about to ask him why before he finally heard the noise of his phone ringing, the vibrations buzzing against the nightstand. He heard him curse quietly as he checked the screen, silencing it quickly before putting it back down. “I’ll call them back later,” he said, quiet enough that Alex wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or not. He sighed, looking down at his own chest and stomach, then headed for the bathroom. Alex pushed himself up after a moment, resisting the urge to check John’s phone screen, somewhat sure he knew who the call was from anyway. He heard the shower turn on, and he forced himself up from the bed, joining him a minute later, the hot water relaxing sore muscles as they cleaned each other off. Alex avoided saying a word about the phone call, for once feeling like keeping quiet was the best call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that angst slipped back in at the end 
> 
> Leave some comments please 
> 
> And come chat on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	18. Chapter 18

Two weeks from his start date, Lafayette had improbably already made friends with half the employees in their office. John sometimes wondered how he found the time to get any work done, considering he always seemed to be off talking with someone, but somehow he transitioned from his training to real work flawlessly and didn’t seem to have any issues meeting his first few deadlines for projects. He couldn’t help feeling a bit jealous at how easy everything seemed to come to him as he flourished in his new role. 

John sat with him and Alex in the kitchen at lunch, a few boxes of Chinese take out in the middle of the table between them. Picked at one of the spare ribs on his plate as he listened to the conversation. 

“Oh! I meant to tell you,” Lafayette exclaimed, interrupting his own train of thought as he switched topics. “I’m hosting a party for my birthday. You’re obviously both invited.”

John glanced up in surprise. “When’s your birthday?”

“The sixth,” Alex answered, a little too quickly. “What?” he asked, growing defensive as he noticed the other two looking at him. “I had to look at his personal info all morning on his first day. I could probably recite his passport number if I needed to.”

“Please don’t,” Lafayette said, taking a bite of his rice. 

“I wasn’t _going to_.”

“So,” John interjected before Alex could argue further, leaning back in his chair as he rested his arm on the table. “When’s the party?”

“Saturday. It doesn’t fall quite on my actual birthday, but it _is_ a good day for a party, no?” 

“Definitely,” he agreed. “Is it going to be at your place?”

“Yes. I have the space, and it’d be nice to have the backdrop of the city from the patio outside. I think people would enjoy that.”

“Yeah,” Alex added, still chewing a bite of eggroll. “Especially once everyone is wasted. Drunk people love rooftops. It’s why rooftop bars are such a big thing. Do you have like, a bar cart or something? You know, something to make drinks outside too so people don’t have to keep going in and out?” He motioned back and forth with his hands, mimicking the movement. “That’d probably keep things running more smoothly so the kitchen doesn’t get too congested. This is all assuming you’re inviting a shit ton of people of course.”

Lafayette nodded. “Yes, the guest list is somewhat large. People from work, some people I know from my building, some family friends in the area, a few people from my gym.”

“Jesus,” Alex said with a touch of exasperation. “How do you know so many people? You _just_ moved here.”

“It’s not like I’ve never been in New York before now. My family has had this apartment for years.” He pushed his rice around with his fork and gave a slightly dramatic sigh. “I wish my girlfriend was coming, but she is busy and also still very mad at me for leaving France without telling her.”

“You…” Alex looked blindsided, and John was having a hard time not laughing. “You don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Yes. I do.”

“No, you don’t. What the hell.” He looked extremely perplexed, staring at Lafayette as if it was some joke, and he would crack with enough pressure. When that didn’t work, he turned the other way. “John?”

“Yes?” He couldn’t help his grin as Alex looked between them with an expression somewhere between wounded and disbelieving.

“Does Lafayette have a girlfriend?” 

“He’s mentioned her before. Adrienne.” 

“Not to _me_ ,” he looked between the two of them now, clearly thrown off. 

“That’s because when we’re together you just talk and talk, Alex. I’ve never had the chance to bring her up. I am always too busy helping you with your problems.” He heaved another dramatic sigh. 

“Bullshit. John would have said something at least.” He turned to him with accusatory eyes, waiting for him to either admit it was a joke or apologize.

John just shrugged, his chest shaking a little now with silent laughter. “You _do_ talk a lot, Alex. Sorry, it never came up.”

“I imagine John is busy _talking_ about other things when the two of you are alone.” Lafayette added, making sure the innuendo was clear in his tone.

John glanced behind them instinctively, but no one else was in the kitchen, and their voices were low enough not to carry far. He knew Lafayette wouldn’t be so careless. After all, it had been weeks, and true to his word, he hadn’t even implied there was something going on between John and Alex to anyone else. Still, the momentary panic that rocketed his pulse wouldn’t calm until he was sure. 

“Yeah,” Alex said grudgingly. “I guess. Still. How do you go _two weeks_ without telling me that?”

“Everyone else knows.” He gave a one-shouldered shrug, tilting his head to the side. “It must have just slipped my mind.” 

“C’est des conneries,” Alex muttered sullenly, just loud enough to still be heard.

Lafayette just laughed, patting him on the upper arm with mock sympathy. “At least you know now. We have more important things to discuss though. Back to party planning. I don’t think I have a bar cart, but we could set things up on one of the tables outside beforehand. Did you want to help me prepare? I would be very appreciative.”

“Yeah, sure,” he answered, seeming to forget his bad mood at the prospect of helping out with Lafayette’s party. 

“What time do you want us over there?” 

“Whenever you would like. I’ve told people to start arriving around eight, so before then preferably.”

“Do you want us to help you bring food and drinks or whatever back to your place? Extra couple of sets of hands?”

“I was just going to have everything delivered. Thank you for the offer though.”

“Ugh, the delivery fees for that shit are ridiculously expensive.” Alex stabbed at a piece of beef with his fork. “You sure you want to have them delivered? I’m serious, me and John could help bring stuff up.”

“It’s worth the convenience,” he responded simply. 

“Alex, you can’t complain. He’s stimulating the economy. Making sure some delivery person gets a huge tip.”

“I wasn’t _complaining_. Sheesh. But if you want to debate about it, the fact that services like that deliberately keep the fees so high impacts people who actually _need_ the delivery services in the first place because people who _want it_ for the convenience and are willing to pay the high price, and if people are willing to pay it they’ll keep it high. So then people who legitimately can’t walk somewhere to get groceries are stuck paying out the ass because it’s so damn expensive.”

“Huh.” John paused, thinking it through. It had never occurred to him how much of an issue just getting food could be for someone. He frowned to himself as he considered what that would be like in the city where people were expected to walk and take public transit everywhere. 

“Should I not get it all delivered?” Lafayette asked, sounding concerned. “I could take a car or...” He trailed off, biting his lip as he thought it through. 

“No, you’re fine. Sorry, didn’t mean to freak you out. It’s a bigger issue than you using it this one time for your party. Does anyone else want the last crab rangoon?” When neither of them reached for it, he grabbed it out of the takeout box. “Oh, if there’s gonna be a ton of people at this thing, can we invite people?” 

John eyed him wearily, but Lafayette just smiled, eager to switch topics. “Of course! Let me know how many people to expect so I can be prepared.”

“Oh, I just had one guy in mind. I’ll let you know if that changes though.”

Alex was halfway through a cost-benefit analysis when he saw a notification pop up that Washington had sent him a message. He clicked over to the other tab to pull it up, his forehead creasing with worry as he read, _We need to talk. Meet me in my office in five minutes._ Fucking ominous. What the hell had he done now? He glanced up towards his office, but Washington was still in a meeting over in one of the conference rooms. He checked the calendar on his phone, noting that the meeting would be over in exactly five minutes. He focused on tying up loose ends so that he’d be better able to jump back into his project when he was done talking and then closed his laptop. Spent a minute or two tidying up his desk and making sure everything looked clean enough before crossing the space to wait outside his door. From his position, he was able to see when the meeting got out a couple of minutes late, and he tracked Washington’s movements as he dismissed himself and headed over. 

“Sir, you wanted to see me?” 

“Hamilton, come in,” he said, pulling open the door and motioning him inside. Alex looked around the office for a moment, unsure, but then sat in the chair opposite Washington’s across the desk. He couldn’t help tapping his hand restlessly against his thigh. _We need to talk_ is the type of shit you to say to someone when they’re in trouble. He wasn’t sure what he did exactly, or said more likely, but it couldn’t have been good. He ran his mouth so often he was positive there was some faux paus he was forgetting. 

Washington closed the door behind him before sitting down heavily in his own chair, meeting Alex with a level stare, his face unreadable. 

“Have I done something wrong, sir?” he blurted out before Washington had a chance to say anything. He felt his shoulders tense in proactive defense of whatever the answer would be. 

But Washington’s voice came out steady and sure as he shook his head. “No, I’ve called you in here to discuss a project. When considering who to choose for this particular task, you were the first person to come to mind. Your work is always phenomenal, and looking over your resume you have an array of writing experience. School paper, student government pieces, a few minor publications. Are you up for something a little more in depth than briefs? It’s not the type of work I’d typically assign to interns, but I need someone who knows how to write well. Both technically and persuasively. Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?”

Alex felt a simultaneous swell of excitement and pride inside of him, and it took a minute before he could be sure his voice would come out steady. “Of course, sir. Absolutely. Whatever you need.” He was sitting straight up, his back a few inches away from the fabric of the chair, eager and impatient to hear more. 

“Very good. The project itself is a speech for Senator Schuyler about the merits of his current tax proposals and the economic impact they would have on the country. We should have some information gathered on this already, but it will likely also involve some more surveys and some research into the specific benefits and potential ramifications of his policy proposals. I’m inclined to believe it will be a very time intensive project. I don’t imagine that will be much of a problem for you, but just say the word if it’s too much.”

“It won’t be,” Alex responded a little too quickly, feeling the enthusiasm bubbling over. “This is honestly kind of perfect. It intersects a bunch of my interests.”  
Washington smiled at him, a rare sign of affection from someone who was usually so stoic. “I thought it sounded like something you’d enjoy. More importantly, I think you’re the best person here to do the job. I want you to put all of your energy into this speech, alright? The senator has worked with us in the past, but if you do a good job with this not only will it look good for us as a company, but it will put you on his radar as well, Hamilton. It certainly wouldn’t be a bad thing for someone with that many political connections to know your name.”

“Yes, sir,” Alex said, nodding and still slightly dazed by the conversation. He thought he was coming in to get scolded for some dumb comment, and now he was getting… what? A vote of confidence? An opportunity to set himself up for moves further down his career path? If nothing else, it was a chance to prove he was worth more to Washington than any of the others. Indispensable. “I understand. I won’t let you down.”

Washington turned in his chair, facing his computer screen and bringing his hands up to the keyboard in a way that signalled the end of the conversation. “I’ll let you get back to your work now if you don’t have any questions, and I’ll send more information over, official guidelines and such, when I have it. That should be tomorrow at the latest.”

“Alright, sounds good.” As Alex stood up from the chair, he felt almost dizzy with anticipation. He made to leave, but then turned back quickly. “Thank you, sir. For trusting me with this. I know it’s an important project, and I really appreciate the opportunity.”

“You’ve earned it,” Washington said with a small smile.

Alex beamed and nodded again, turning back towards the door. He felt a little lighter as he returned to his desk, unable to stop smiling to himself even as he worked through pages of dry statistics and complicated analyses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Birthday party planning! And Washington helping Alex to make some moves! 
> 
> Happy Hamilfilm Day! About to go watch right now!!!! <3
> 
> Leave me some comments please :) 
> 
> And come follow me on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls so we can talk and stuff!


	19. Chapter 19

Friday rolled around, and everyone was scrambling to finish up work for the week, wrap up loose ends and make sure they were freed of all obligations before the weekend officially started. Five o’clock hit, and almost immediately Lafayette was standing by John’s desk, waiting as he finished up and saved a file before beginning to pack his bag. “You’re still coming with me to get decorations and supplies and such, right John?” 

He glanced up, surprised at the question. “Yeah of course. I said I would.”

“Well, so did Alex.”

John gave him a confused look. He glanced over to where Alex sat, only to see him still diligently typing away as everyone else filed out for the day. “Is he bailing on you?”

“Oh, I thought he would have told you.” John felt a flicker of annoyance at that because he _should_ have told him. It felt a little sour to be hearing of the change of plans from Lafayette instead. “He said he’s very busy with the speech for Senator Schuyler, and that he needs to stay for a while and focus without anyone distracting him.” 

John crossed his arms over his chest as he turned back to face Lafayette. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

Lafayette glanced at him with a little too much pity, and John suddenly realized how pathetic he sounded. “I’m sure it just slipped his mind.” The placating tone was grinding on his nerves. “I had asked him about it specifically while trying to confirm plans earlier, it’s not as if he remembered to tell me either.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” He got up from the desk, shouldering his bag a little more aggressively than he needed to. 

Lafayette just sighed at the display, glancing back over at Alex, still staring at his screen with his headphones in, oblivious to their conversation. “John, it is a big project. Important as well. I don’t mind that he had to cancel our plans today.” He started walking towards the door, trusting that John would follow. “It will be fun, spending some time with just the two of us.”

As much as he felt a little guilty admitting it, even to himself, John wasn’t upset that Alex had cancelled on Lafayette. He was upset that he had cancelled the plans without even thinking to tell him about it. How hard was it to send a quick text? He squeezed into the crowded elevator beside him and hit the button to force the doors closed before anyone else could pack in beside them.  
“Yeah, I guess. You’re buying dinner though.”

“Deal,” Lafayette responded with a grin. 

They arrived back at Lafayette’s apartment with arms full of bags from the store. The doorman had offered his assistance in hauling everything upstairs, but Lafayette had politely declined, insisting they could handle it themselves. After all, they had managed to get everything to the building. John held the elevator doors open as Lafayette made several trips to drop all their purchases on the kitchen floor. When he was finally done Lafayette stepped over to the fridge, grabbing a pitcher of water and pouring two glasses. 

“I’m fine,” John protested as Lafayette handed him one. 

“John, it’s hot outside, and you’ve been helping me lug around things for the party. You’ll get dehydrated if you don’t drink enough water.” 

John resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the obvious advice as he accepted the glass. “I think Alex could use that reminder sometimes. I never see him drink anything besides coffee until midafternoon.”

“He does have a caffeine problem,” Lafayette agreed. “Would you like to sit?” He motioned over to the couch and chairs in the living room. “We could also go outside if you’d like, but I thought being in the air conditioning for a while would be nice.” 

“Yeah, inside is good.” He crossed the room and sat on the couch. As he sipped his water, he felt his mind drifting, wondering if Alex had finished up his work yet. It was almost seven. 

“So, how has your week been?” Lafayette asked as he plopped himself down.

“You see me everyday.”

“Yes, but we don’t get to talk plainly in the office, and Alex has been too preoccupied to pry information out of. How are things going?”

“You mean between me and Alex?”

“I meant life in general, but I’m aware that life in general includes Alex.”

John hesitated, unsure why that made him feel so embarrassed. “Things are fine.”

“Just fine?” Lafayette pushed, leaning back in the plush armchair.

He sighed, all too aware by this point that trying to get away with vague answers was often a losing game with Lafayette. “Alex has been busy, so…” He shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. We haven’t been able to see each other much this week.” He ran his thumb along the glass in his hand, feeling the slight ridges from the etched design as they passed under his touch. 

“Yes, I can imagine. When does he need that speech finished by?”

“End of next week I think.” He was lying, just a little bit. He didn’t _think_ it was due by the end of next week. He _knew_ it was due by the end of next week because Alex had been talking about it constantly. 

“You can always pass the time here if you’re lonely.”

“It’s one week, Lafayette.”

“Still.” He gave him that look again, just on the edge of pity, and John couldn’t help the reflexive defense.

“I don’t need you to coddle me, you know. I can handle myself.”

“I never said you couldn’t.” Lafayette shrugged, softening the intensity of his expression with what seemed like conscious effort. “A friend asking if you want to spend time with them isn’t coddling, John. It’s actually quite normal, especially if you know that friend is going to have more free time than they know what to do with.” He glanced down at his own hands in his lap, then back up. “You’d be doing me a favor as well by coming over. I’m missing friends and family from home a bit and could use the company, not that you asked.” 

John felt the sting of his words, and shame rose in his throat, cutting off his response. Was he really so self absorbed that he hadn’t even thought to check in on how Lafayette was feeling a couple of weeks after moving to a new country? “You make friends so easily, I just didn’t think to ask,” he responded meekly, trying to inject some reasoning into his own insensitivity. 

“Just because I get along well with so many people doesn’t mean I’m close with any of them.” He leaned back in the chair again, crossing his arms low over his stomach. “I like spending time with you. Both of you. At least when you’re not so wrapped up in your own problems.” 

“Sorry,” John said quietly, rubbing at his face. 

“It’s alright.” When John looked at him skeptically, he continued. “No really. From what I gather you’re dealing with a lot. I’d imagine it’s occupying a good portion of your mind, so I suppose it’s not overly surprising you wouldn’t be as focused on other people’s problems.”

“I’m not dealing with any more than anyone else.” It was a lie he told himself often enough that he almost believed it was true. After all, he didn’t have to worry about finances. Where he would live, or how he’d get food to eat. He had a decent job with even more opportunities being handed to him if he wanted to take them. He was healthy and safe and had no reason to complain about the life he had been given.

Lafayette looked like he wanted to argue, but he held his tongue, taking a moment before switching the subject. “Would you like to do something? I have video games. We could watch television. There’s a pool table in the other room.”

“There’s a pool table?” John raised his eyebrows, still a little in awe of how impressive Lafayette’s apartment was. 

“Yes, would you like to see?” he asked with an eager smile, already getting up from his chair. “We converted one of the back rooms to a... “ He frowned to himself as he trailed off. 

“A rec room? Like for games and stuff?” 

“Ah, yes, exactly!” He led the way down the hall, his cheery disposition back in place. John followed after, feeling vaguely like he had whiplash from all the different directions that conversation had taken. He shook it off and tried to relax, pulling out his phone to double check if Alex had texted him yet. 

When Alex finally pulled his eyes away from his laptop and stood up to stretch sore muscles, he realized for the first time that it was already dark outside. Shit. What time was it? He dragged the cursor up to the top corner of his screen to show the clock. 9:23. Shit. He glanced back at the working document, small black line still blinking up at him where he had left off. He probably should have left a long while ago. It was a Friday, and even Washington had been out the door shortly after five, and he had promised Lafayette and John… _shit_. 

He scrambled to pull his phone out of his bag, having hidden it away earlier in the evening to eliminate any distractions. Out of sight, out of mind. As the screen lit up, he saw several notifications pop into view. He clicked on the messages from Lafayette first. 

\--Lafayette: Your boyfriend is upset with you.  
\--Lafayette: Nevermind. I think I fixed him for now. You’re welcome.  
\--Lafayette: Feel free to come over when you’re done. 

Alex shook his head at the words, letting out a harsh breath. He switched over to the next set of messages. 

\--Hercules: what time is this thing tomorrow?  
\--Hercules: also you never gave me the address

He sent off a reply with the answers. Hesitated for a moment before switching to the last set of texts. He wasn’t quite sure why he was so nervous. 

\--John: Hey I miss you. Let me know when you’re done 

That had been a couple of hours ago. His eyes darted to the time again, and then back to the message. He wasn’t even sure if John was still over there or if he had gone home. He winced a little when he realized he had forgotten to tell him he wasn’t heading over to help Lafayette after work in the first place. 

He took a deep breath and tapped the icon to call him. 

It rang twice before he heard John’s voice on the other end. 

“Hey. You finished up at work?”

“Just leaving now,” he said, cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear as he packed up his things. “Are you still at Lafayette’s place?” 

“Mhmm. I’m not sure how much later he wants me here though.” Alex could hear a muffled voice in the background, loudly interjecting. “Scratch that. He says I can stay as late as I want. Not sure how much later _I_ want to stay…” He laughed as Lafayette made some other comment. 

“Okay.” Alex paused, unsure what the best plan was at this point. It was already late, and he didn’t want to impose. Then again, it _was_ Lafayette, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the offer was completely genuine, and he wouldn’t object to them staying until some ungodly hour. “Do you want me to head over there then? Or I could just head home if you’re leaving soon. Or I could meet up with you somewhere. Up to you.”

“Come over,” John answered, more decisive. Alex was relieved to hear that he sounded happy. Relaxed. He grudgingly admitted to himself that he probably should thank Lafayette for that. “We can always go somewhere else later.”

“Alright. I’ll be there in a few.” He slung his bag over his shoulder. “Wait, will Lafayette’s doorman let me in? Am I able to get up that elevator by myself? I’ve never gone over there without him.” 

“We’ll meet you downstairs. Just text me when you’re close.”

“Okay.” Alex said, feeling a little more comfortable with that option. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, see you soon.” The call ended with a beep. Alex glanced around the empty office, feeling a little bit lighter. He was heading into the weekend ahead on his project with plans to blow off steam at Lafayette’s party, and John _didn’t_ seem to be mad at him for fucking up a little bit. It felt too good to be true. He let out a deep breath, forcing himself to smile as he headed out the doors. He spent a moment convincing himself, as he stood in the otherwise empty elevator, that this was a good thing, and he didn’t need to screw it up to make sure it’d last. _Just trust him_ , he told himself, one hand in his pocket, his fingers tracing the edge of his phone. When he finally stepped out into the noise and glaring city lights outside, he allowed himself a real smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Hamilfilm weekend everyone! 
> 
> Leave some thoughts down in the comments! 
> 
> Come chat on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	20. Chapter 20

The next morning, Alex woke up in John’s bed, the comforter askew where he had apparently kicked it off in the night. He rolled over, feeling a smile spread over his face as John shifted and made a soft noise, but didn’t wake. He allowed himself to wonder for a moment what it would be like to wake up like this every day. The rest of his life, the same person there next to him, the same familiar presence, the same quiet, deep breaths, the same stillness and peacefulness and comfort. 

He knew it should be a good thought. And it _was_. To a point. He rolled over onto his back, unwilling to keep his eyes on John while doubts twined through his mind, weaving a complicated pattern that was impossible to completely untangle. Because as much as this was _nice_ , he couldn’t dismiss the worry that maybe it wasn’t right. He shook his head to himself, trying to push the intrusive line of thinking aside. He was being ridiculous anyway. It wasn’t the time to be thinking about things like this. Their relationship was still _new_. No need to muddle it with complications about the future. 

He climbed out of the bed, grabbing his phone off the nightstand and pulling on a pair of John’s sweatpants from the floor before heading to the living room. Turned on the coffee machine to heat up and then fell onto the couch, sighing as he opened his laptop where it sat on the coffee table. He read through the last couple of paragraphs of the speech from the night before, his forehead creasing as he noticed a few areas that he needed to touch up. Highlighted them so he wouldn’t forget, and then clicked over to another open tab. He scrolled through a long list of Senator Schuyler’s policy stances, stopping at the section he wanted. Made a few notes on some things he needed to do some more research on and then clicked back to the homepage of the website, a large headshot of the senator smiling back at him next to a short biographical style summary of his career. He had read through it before. Even before this project. They had done plenty of work that either directly involved the senator’s office or intersected his career and policies in some way. Still, Alex read through it again, always considerably impressed by the accomplishments and sheer length of his political resume. Washington’s words still echoed in his head. _It certainly wouldn’t be a bad thing for someone with that many political connections to know your name._ When he got to the bottom of the page he clicked over to some news articles featuring him. One of the newer ones a piece about some fundraising gala. He scrolled through, skimming the words and taking in pictures of older people dressed in suits and formal gowns. Hand shaking. Posing in front of the stage and at round tables with dainty tablecloths. He scrolled a little further and a picture of the senator with his three daughters at one of those tables slid into view. He read the caption, digging back in his mind to pick out which one was going to be working with him. _Angelica._ According to the caption she was farthest to the left, flashing a wide smile with her hands folded neatly on the table in front of her. A sleek gown of bright pink-red perfectly fitted in a way that could only be possible with custom tailoring. Her hair was slicked back into a neat ponytail, and her makeup was impeccable in such a way that it wouldn’t be out of place on a red carpet. His eyes moved to the next sister, a little younger and tucked against her father’s side with his arm around her shoulder as she gave a toothy smile, a dress of pale yellow with a high neckline contrasting with the soft brown curls that fell over her shoulders. _Peggy_ , according to the caption. Then the last sister, seated on the other side of her father. _Eliza._ Her hair was pulled up and styled high on her head, a few wisps falling down in front of her face in a way so artfully casual that Alex couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or not. Unlike her sisters, she gave the camera a close-mouthed grin, something almost mischievous in the way the corners of her lips turned up. She wore a strapless blue gown that seemed like something out of a fairytale, with a high waist and tulle that puffed out to accent her silhouette. As he studied the picture, Alex couldn’t help but stare at her eyes, dark and warm and impossibly deep through the photographer’s lens and the computer screen that separated them. Like she somehow knew he was staring and was unafraid to stare right back. 

With more effort than he would ever admit, he forced himself to turn his gaze back towards Senator Schuyler, posing between his daughters with a bright smile that looked more genuine than the one he wore in any of the other pictures. And it wasn’t that he looked miserable in the others. On the contrary, he was either thoroughly enjoying himself or a very good actor. But there was something different about the look on his face in this one image, a look that seemed to only be reserved for family. He catalogued that snippet away in his mind. Maybe he could gain some more insight on their relationship when he met Angelica. He took in the family as a whole again. They looked so polished, so happy, so entirely glad to be with one another. It was uncomfortably strange to see a family that looked so _complete_. 

His brain flickered on an idea, just briefly, but it was enough for that thought to take hold. He made a face to himself, knowing what he was about to do wasn’t perhaps the smartest idea, and did a quick search in a new tab, instantly getting back images and news articles. He clicked on the first link that came up from some online news site based in South Carolina. It was a fluff piece, nothing super substantial. But the picture that appeared, large and high resolution at the top of the article, was almost surreal to look at. The entire Laurens family, save for their mother, standing up on the stage when their dad was first elected to the Senate. Smiling and clapping as Senator Laurens waved to the crowd at the gathering on the other side of the camera. John stood closest to his father, his youngest sister, only a toddler at that point, resting at his hip, the rest of his siblings falling away in order of height. The work of some campaign manager looking for a good visual aesthetic on the stage most likely. Knowing pictures like these would be frozen in time and that anything less than perfection would be a missed opportunity. John looked fresh out of high school, and it struck Alex that he _was_ at that point. His hair was cut shorter than it was now, curls just barely brushing his ears, and his dark blue suit contrasted the slight tan on his skin. His smile was wide, bright, as he looked over at his dad. Alex was almost surprised that he _didn’t_ see some sign of anxiety. Stress. Discomfort. He tried to imagine what it would be like in his shoes. Up with hundreds of eyes staring at you, knowing there were press and onlookers and people who would gladly use one sour expression as some lead for the next bullshit article they decided was worth their time. He supposed it wouldn’t be the hardest thing in the world to simply melt into the emotions of the night. Follow the ebb and flow of everyone around you and simply allow your body to mimic what you knew you should be feeling. Then again, who was he to say? Maybe John was happy that night. Try as he might, it was difficult to completely analyze the dynamic from a picture alone. 

He was abruptly shaken from his thoughts by the sound of the bedroom door opening. In a moment of pure panic, he slammed the laptop shut, dropping it back down onto the coffee table as if it had burned him. 

John gave him a bewildered look, still standing in the doorway. “Good morning?” He raised his eyebrows, confused and questioning. 

Alex swallowed a few times, sure that the dry feeling in his throat would prevent him from speaking. He got up from the couch, wanting to put as much distance as possible between himself and the evidence of what he had been looking at. What he had been doing wasn’t _wrong_ per se, but he somehow knew it wasn’t right either. His desire to hide it told him that much. He didn’t allow himself to hesitate as he crossed the room, draping his arms over John’s shoulders and giving him a quick kiss. “Morning.” He peered up into his eyes and was relieved to see there was no longer suspicion there. Just half-awake adoration.

“What were you doing out here?” he asked, looking over at the couch Alex had just abandoned. 

His heartbeat quickened, but he managed to make his voice convincing enough. “Just working on the speech a little bit.” He _had_ been working on the speech, after all. Briefly. 

“Are you finished? Because I don’t mind if you want to keep working on it. I could go down to the gym for a while.”

“Stay here,” he said, leaning in for another kiss. “I want to spend time with you.”

John gave him a half smile, their faces so close their lips were nearly touching. “You’re going to be with me all day, Alex.”

He dropped one arm down to his side, reaching so he could grab John’s hand and twine their fingers together. “I’ve been so busy this week. And later we’ll be at Lafayette’s with a bunch of other people, and you’re not gonna let me do this,” he said softly, pressing another kiss to his lips. “So, it really won’t be the same. I’ll have plenty of time to work on the speech tomorrow and the rest of the week. I planned for this. Today is a day off. I knew I’d be spending a bunch of the day over at Lafayette’s place, and I’m ahead enough to take a break.” The words felt wrong coming out of his mouth, and he shoved down the urge to take them back. It was one day. It was only one day, and he’d be spending most of it at a party where he would, once again, have to pretend there was nothing more than friendship between him and John, and the thought sat uneasily at the forefront of his consciousness. 

John gave him a more full smile, squeezing where their fingers were still interlocked. “Alright, if you really don’t have to get any work done.”

“I really don’t.” _Wrong, wrong, wrong._ His brain chimed the word again and again, and he swallowed, trying to work away the lump in his throat. It wasn’t a fucking crime to take some time off once in a while. So why did it feel like the consequences would essentially be the same? He leaned his face forward into the space where John’s neck met his shoulder, nuzzling against him and pressing a kiss to freckled skin. “We’ve got time until we have to head over,” he said softly, trying to pitch his voice into something seductive. “What do you want to do until then?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, bringing one hand up to idly stroke at his hair. “Did you want breakfast? I could make something.” 

“Think we need to work up an appetite first.” He smiled, pressing another kiss at his collarbone as John laughed above him. 

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” 

Alex pulled back a little, blinking wide eyes up at him. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” 

“Mmm,” John hummed, letting Alex lean forward once again, parting his lips just a little as his tongue pressed against him. He let him explore for just a few minutes before taking a step back and breaking the two of them apart. 

“Hey,” Alex complained, the word coming out almost as a whine. He tried to close the gap again but John grabbed his upper arm, keeping him at a short distance. 

“Breakfast first,” he told him with a smug grin. “I’m hungry.” 

“Fine,” Alex grumbled, pulling a hair tie off of his wrist and reaching up to pull his hair back. “Can I cook though?”

“Uh.” John gave him a confused look. “Sure?”

“You know how to make like three things, John.” His face flushed in response, and Alex bit his lip to stop from laughing. 

“I know how to cook more than that.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, his tone entirely unconvinced. “I’m not judging you. It must have been _hard_ to learn how to cook when the housestaff took care of all that stuff for you.” 

He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms over his bare chest. “So, are you going to teach me, or just make fun of me?”

“Oh. Sure,” Alex answered brightly after a second of surprised pause. “Yeah, I can teach you some recipes. Do you have plantains?”

“No.” John raised his eyebrows, not aware that was something he was _expected_ to have in his kitchen. 

“Damn. Oh well. I’m assuming you have eggs. How about omelettes?” Alex was already across the room, pulling open the fridge and placing ingredients onto the counter. 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” 

He turned as John came up behind him, craning his neck back to accept a kiss as hands wrapped around his waist. Gave a delighted sigh as their lips broke apart and John rested his chin on his shoulder. As much as his brain was still buzzing with thoughts in the background, everything that should be a higher priority, the responsibilities he was ignoring, he found he could tune it out for the time being as he breathed in John’s smell and leaned back against his chest. He could barely hear a word of it as he instructed him which vegetables to chop and watched from the side, stepping in every few minutes to correct the positioning of his hands or the way he was holding the knife. It was easy, light, the way mornings were supposed to be, and he let himself relax into the feel of it just this once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm supposed to be working right now lol
> 
> Leave your thoughts in the comments please :) 
> 
> Come hang out on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	21. Chapter 21

“Does Lafayette know we’re heading over now? Don’t we need him to get up to his apartment?” John had his hand in his pocket, resting on his phone, ready to pull it out and text him.

“He said the doorman would be expecting us and could give us elevator access. Which is some rich people bullshit by the way.” Alex glanced up at the sky as they walked, a bright, saturated blue with only a few scattered clouds. 

“My building has a doorman,” John pointed out, but he could feel the amused smile tugging at his lips. 

“Yeah, but yours dresses normally, not like something out of an old black and white film. And you don’t have _elevator access._ Well, at least your unit doesn’t have elevator access. It just seems so excessive.”

“It’s practical though. Why wouldn’t there be elevator access if it works for the setup? Just to make another hallway with one door or something?”

“Practical is not having a penthouse apartment, but oh well.” He shrugged. “Not that I mind having a huge space to go hangout. Not exactly the easiest thing to find in the city.” 

John watched his hand, brushing against his jeans lightly as his arm swung back and forth a little bit with every movement. He felt a sudden inexplicable need to reach out, to grab his hand and hold on, for no other reason than to be constantly assured of his presence, able to feel him there even when he turned to the other side or closed his eyes. To know that he was still next to him. The desire for that subtle intimacy was almost strong enough to make him forget where he was, out in public in midtown Manhattan, close to their office and friends’ apartments. He settled for something simpler, quicker. Tucked a strand of loose hair behind Alex’s ear, earning him a surprised smile as he glanced up at him. 

“Thanks,” he said, his voice almost coming out as a sigh. “Do you think we can make out at Lafayette’s place? Like, before the party?”

“Alex.” He gave him a disapproving look. Of course they couldn’t. It was his goddamn birthday. They weren’t going to ditch their friend _on his birthday_ to go make out in a spare room while they were supposed to be helping out. 

“ _John,_ ” he responded, exasperatedly emphasizing his name. “Can you blame me? I’m going to miss touching you. I _already_ miss touching you.”

“Just because I’m saying no to ditching Lafayette to make out doesn’t mean you have to be completely hands-off. There’s plenty of time before the party actually starts. But we’re not sneaking off to fool around”

“But you’re hot.” 

The pout on his face was a mix of real disappointment and overly dramatic exaggeration, and John couldn’t help his short burst of laughter. He ducked his face, feeling the slight blush spreading across his cheeks. “Alex,” he said again, this time reaching down and lacing their fingers together. The action caused him to startle, staring up at John in confused surprise, which he quickly tried to mask. “It’s going to be fine, alright? We were together all morning.” His mind briefly replayed some graphic memories of how _together_ they had been. “And it’s just one night, and there’ll be so many people and booze that you’ll be too busy to even think about it. You like this type of stuff. Don’t get so into your own head that you end up not enjoying any of it.”

“Yeah, okay.” He still didn’t sound completely convinced, but he gave John’s hand a squeeze as they continued down the crowded sidewalk. The slight breeze felt nice, the temperature finally, blessedly, starting to drop from the oppressive heat of the summer. Alex had become distracted by his phone, someone texting him by the look of it, and John took the moment to watch him, unhampered by the self conscious tendencies that came through when he knew he was being watched. He took in the way his forehead creased just slightly as he read the words on the screen, the way he fumbled clumsily with one hand on the keyboard without a second thought so he wouldn’t have to let go of John’s hand, how he instinctively walked with his shoulders back even as his head bowed forward over his phone, the way his pace slowed half a beat as he was writing out a response and then subconsciously picked back up again once it was sent. He turned a little to get a better angle to put his phone back in his pocket and caught John’s eye as he tried to pretend he hadn’t been staring. “Sorry,” he said, misinterpreting the look on his face and giving his hand another squeeze. “That was Hercules. Wanted to know what time to come over.” 

“I’m glad I’m finally going to get to meet him,” John said as they stopped at the intersection, quickly surrounded as more people filled in the gaps around them to wait for the light. Alex leaned into his side a little, bringing his other hand up to grab John’s arm lightly, and his heartbeat picked up, the feel of Alex’s fingers brushing against his bare skin, pressing lightly into the muscle there, both thrilling and nerve-inducing. 

“Me too,” he responded with a smile. “You think Lafayette would be okay if I told him to come like half an hour early or something? So I can introduce you two properly without everyone else there?”

John pushed aside the stab of guilt and gave Alex a half smile. “Did you already tell him to come over half an hour early?”

He made a face, and when he responded it was with a little bit of hesitation. “Yeah?” When John gave him an amused but disapproving look he squeezed his hand again. The light hadn’t even changed yet when Alex began crossing, tugging John along with him. “Lafayette won’t mind,” he said, answering his own previous question as his other hand dropped back to his side again. 

John was pretty sure that was true but _still_. He took out his phone once they stepped up onto the sidewalk again, sending off a message to Lafayette and getting a response almost immediately. 

\--John: Hey. We’re almost there. Also is it okay if Alex’s friend comes over a little early?

\--Lafayette: Completely fine. See you soon!

\--John: See you soon

He looked up as Alex jerked his hold on his hand, realizing belatedly that they were supposed to be turning. He allowed himself to be half dragged around the corner as he put his phone away. When John looked back up, he caught Alex’s eyes widening with some abrupt thought before he said aloud, “Shit. Were we supposed to get a present? Uh, presents I mean?” He frowned, suddenly perplexed as they approached the building. 

“I’m sure he’s not expecting anything, Alex.” He gave his hand one last squeeze before dropping it as they got closer to the door. “It’s not like most people show up with gifts to things like this.”

“Oh.” He shoved his newly freed hand into his pocket. “I guess. I haven’t been to a birthday party in a hot second.” He laughed, but it was a little nervous. “You really don’t think we should have brought something?”

 _Should have_ and what Lafayette expected were probably two different things, but John shrugged. “We can get him something and bring it in on Monday if it’s bothering you. Or we could stop by tomorrow with a gift since that’s his _actual_ birthday. But I don’t think he’ll be upset.”

“I didn’t think he’d be _upset_ ,” Alex said, still frowning to himself. “Just… he’s a good guy. We should get him something.”

John smiled at him, his heart feeling warm at the slightly self conscious way he admitted it. “We’ll pick something up in the morning. If you’re not too hungover that is.”

“ _Hey_ ,” he started, but quickly cut himself off as they got to the door. 

John was about to tell the doorman who they were there to see, but the man started talking before he could. “You’re here to see Lafayette, correct? Alex and John?”

“Yes,” John said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “He said we’d be able to go up once we got here.”

“Of course.” The doorman smiled, ushering them inside and then briefly leaving his post as he followed them to the elevator. He punched in some code, and John saw the light for the top floor flash on. “All set. Have a good day, gentlemen.”

They both responded in kind, and with what seemed like conscious effort, Alex managed to keep his thoughts to himself until the doors slid shut. “ _See_? It’s excessive.”

John stared at him blankly for a few seconds trying to guess at his line of thinking. When he couldn’t quite come up with anything, he asked, “What is?”

“All of _that_ ,” he said, emphasizing the point with an emphatic hand gesture towards the direction of the now invisible lobby. “The elevator access thing is already excessive. Then you have the over the top formality that goes along with everything.”

“Maybe it’s a little excessive.”

Alex gave a derisive laugh. “ _A little?_ Come on, John. It’s like this weird fetishization of poor people acting subservient. Which isn’t just a problem _here_ , in this building,” he insisted. “The obsession with poor people showing insane amounts of deference to the people they’re serving is a huge thing in almost every field. But it’s definitely a more stark contrast when you have people living in these multimillion dollar apartments.” He leaned back against the wall of the elevator. “But I mean, think about it. Even with things like food service and retail. People get all up in your face for the stupidest shit and you’re expected to just _take it_ and be polite and help them and at the end of the day you’re still going home to a shitty apartment and a quick fast food dinner before you crash and do it all over again. It’s bullshit.”

“Yeah, it is.” He swallowed, unable to come up with anything more useful to say. It _was_ bullshit. No one should be stripped of their dignity for a roof over their head and food in their stomach. He knew that and at the same time felt horrendously guilty thinking of the housekeepers and cook and nanny at his home growing up. Thinking about every well-funded event he attended where the contrast between the guests and the servers was both noticeable and expected. A whole system of luxury designed to identify those with money and those without with no more than a glance. 

Alex sighed, straightening up again as he watched the number climb on the automated display above the elevator doors. “It’s just weird,” he had, his voice toned down a little from where it had been just a moment before. “Cognitive dissonance I guess. I just still feel like that’s me, you know? And, well... it’s not. I’ve got a degree. A job in a fancy Manhattan office dealing with politics. I don’t worry about paying rent anymore. I know the money’s gonna be there.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “But I still _remember_ how it feels to wonder if I ever would have any of these things. Circumstances could have been worse. If just a few things had gone differently, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten the scholarships that made school here possible. Maybe I’d still be on the island. Getting to this point was hard work but there’s definitely an element of luck too. I don’t like admitting that, and I may be an arrogant asshole sometimes, but I’m not so self-absorbed that I can’t see it. And who’s to say the doorman or the retail worker or the restaurant server aren’t just as hardworking as I am? But not as lucky? It just feels weird to be in this position where I’m here, visiting this ridiculously luxurious building, and someone is acting like they need to treat me like… I don’t know. Fuck, sorry, I’m rambling.” He adamantly avoided eye contact as he turned to face the doors again. His chest rose visibly with the deep breath he took, both to get air back into his lungs after going on for so long and to steady himself. 

John watched him carefully, wishing he had the ability to express all of that. Even if the train of thought wasn’t perfectly unbroken, messy and raw and real, Alex still knew what he was talking about. “You don’t need to apologize for that. It’s not like I haven’t gotten used to your rambling. Trust me, I know what I got myself into, Alex.” He looked over, and when their eyes met he gave a half hearted smile. “And you’re right. It is bullshit.” They didn’t have any more time to talk about it as the elevator dinged, announcing their arrival on the top floor, so John just pressed a quick, reassuring kiss to the side of his head as they waited for the doors to slide open. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Did you know that doormen are considered essential employees during the pandemic and have had to keep exposing themselves in high risk areas like NYC?_ So many people are unable to stay home, so if you're able to, STAY HOME! And wear a mask! Covid-19 is far from over, we still don't know the long term health effects, and cases in the US are going up as states begin to implement reopening plans. Do everything you can for the people who aren't able to protect themselves due to the lack of appropriate response from our governments. Be safe, be smart, be kind! And donate to food banks for those who lost their jobs due to the ongoing crisis! 
> 
> \-------
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Leave some comments down below, friends! 
> 
> Come hang out on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	22. Chapter 22

Setting up the apartment for the party ran smoothly enough. The only trouble was there was _so much damn apartment_ to set up. Alex had grumbled to Lafayette that they should just tell everyone to stay outside. That way they’d only have to set up _one_ area. But the other two had quickly shot down the idea. 

“There are going to be a lot of people, Alex.”

“Yeah he’s right, Alex. Plus having the space inside is nice. It gives people different areas to break off and actually be able to hear each other over all the noise.”

So, he helped put away random things that might get broken if they were left sitting out and prepared bowls of snacks and makeshift bars with various types of alcohol and moved furniture and set up sound systems so they could have music playing. By the time Hercules was on his way over, he was exhausted enough that all he wanted to do was fall onto the closest flat surface and lay there until the party started. He could spend half a day on his own work without so much as a break easily, but manual labor was a different story. He knew he didn’t have long before everyone else arrived, so he threw himself down onto the couch face first at the soonest opportunity, groaning with relief and exhaustion. A minute later he felt John tap against his calves lightly. “Scooch your legs,” he told him, maneuvering underneath him onto the couch cushion. Once he was settled, Alex dropped his legs back down heavily so they rested in his lap. He could hear Lafayette sitting down in the chair nearby, and then the pop of a can tab as he opened a drink. 

“Alex? Are you alive down there?” Lafayette put his drink down on the coffee table with a metallic sounding clink. 

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled into the cushion. “Just give me five more minutes.”

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Can’t move.” 

John patted his leg sympathetically.

“I’ll get it for you,” Lafayette clarified. “What do you want?” 

“Whatever is fine.”

Lafayette made a short, irritated noise. “John? Would you like anything?”

“Uh, sure. Whatever you’re having is fine,” he said, eyeing the can he had picked up once again. 

“Alright. Do you know what your boyfriend wants? Because he seems to have lost all ability to communicate, which is quite frankly shocking.”

“Dick,” he muttered, still speaking directly into the couch.

John laughed, then bit his lip to stop himself. “Just grab him the same thing. If he doesn’t want it he can get up and get something himself.” 

Alex gave a short, annoyed huff at that but didn’t bother lifting his head. 

“When’s Hercules getting here?” John asked, running his hand up and down where it rested on his leg. 

“He said he’d text me.” Alex sighed quietly, enjoying the momentary closeness. He noted to himself that he could probably fall asleep like this, the world dark around him, just background noise and John’s touch, soothing in its familiarity. 

“How are you going to see the text with your face shoved in a couch cushion?”

He frowned, realizing John was right, and twisted his body so he could grab his phone from where it rested on the coffee table. He finally dragged his head up, propping himself on his elbows so he was at a better angle to view the screen, only to see a text from a few minutes ago already there. “Shit, he might be here. I should go get him.”

“The doorman will let him up,” Lafayette told him as he rounded the couch again, setting both of the cans in front of them on coasters. “He’s aware of the plans for tonight, and I’ve given him the guest list so he knows who should be given access.”

“You sound like such a rich asshole,” Alex grumbled, inspecting the can in front of him. Some sort of hard seltzer. He popped the tab and took a sip as he unlocked his phone. “Giving the doorman a guest list so he knows who has access to your party,” he echoed back with a mocking tone. 

“Be nice, it’s his birthday.”

“It’s not his birthday until tomorrow.”

“Alex, does it make you feel better to know that I didn’t need to include you on the list because the doorman recognizes you at this point?” Lafayette asked. 

He paused in thought. “Yeah, a little. He really already recognizes us?” Lafayette nodded as Alex rolled over awkwardly onto his back, holding his phone up above his head. “Damn, guess we have VIP status. Hercules thinks your building is very swanky by the way.”

“Swanky?” John raised his eyebrows, his hand resting lightly on top of his legs now, a little higher than it had been before.

“He said it, not me!” He turned his screen towards the other two, forgetting that they weren’t actually close enough to read the message. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

There was a loud _ding_ sound from behind them, and the elevator doors slid open. Hercules stepped into the apartment a second later, glancing around at the space quickly before his eyes settled on the three of them. 

“Hey, Herc!” Alex called from where he was still lounging on the couch. 

“You’re not even gonna get up?” he complained, walking towards them as Lafayette stood up to shake his hand. John glanced down at Alex’s legs still in his lap, unable to move without shoving him off. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Lafayette.” 

“The birthday boy,” Hercules joked, accepting his hand. When they broke apart he looked down pointedly at Alex. “Get up, for fuck’s sake.”

Alex made a face but pushed himself up first into a sitting position, then all the way to his feet. He gave him a quick hug, feeling a little self conscious at the display in front of the other two. “Glad you found the place okay.” He hesitated, knowing he needed to introduce John but feeling very awkward and unsure about how to do that exactly. Only after the silence stretched a little too long and Hercules raised his eyebrows and turned his eyes towards John did Alex finally feel the pressure to say something outweigh his uncertainty over _what_ to say. “Uh, John this is my friend Hercules. Hercules, this is John.” _My boyfriend_ , he added in his mind. He wasn’t sure _why_ he didn’t say it. Hercules knew. John knew Hercules knew. It was only them and Lafayette, and _they all knew_. But still, he worried saying it aloud would set John on edge, and that’s not how he wanted to start off the night. 

John had stood up while he was mulling this all over in his brain, shaking Hercules’s hand as well, the two of them making their own pleasantries and small talk. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Hercules said with a grin, his eyes darting briefly to Alex. 

“Oh,” John paused, suddenly nervous. “Really?” 

“Nothing bad,” he teased before turning back to Alex. “You gonna offer me a drink or what?” 

“This isn’t _my_ apartment. Or _my_ party for that matter,” he griped, but headed towards the kitchen anyway, pointing out the area where they had set up various bottles of liquor. “Pick your poison. There’s beers and shit in the fridge.” He stood to the side as Hercules started mixing himself a drink in a solo cup. He could hear Lafayette and John still talking across the room, the conversation muted enough that it was hard to make out at this distance. 

“He seems nice,” Hercules noted as he grabbed another bottle, not looking at Alex as he focused on the task at hand, keeping his voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry. 

“Thanks.” He swallowed, feeling ridiculously nervous despite the fact there was really nothing to be nervous over. “He is.” He took a long sip of the drink in his own hand, absorbing everything going on around him like a sponge, processing it all but not really feeling like a part of it. He felt distinctly alone in this room filled with people who he had somehow, improbably, grown close to. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling as he followed Hercules back to the living room area, watching as he took a seat next to the other two and jumped right into the conversation, eliciting laughter with some joke that Alex was too distracted to process. He was still standing, off to the side a bit with his hand resting on the back of the couch. Watched as Lafayette said something to make the other two laugh again, all three of them leaning in a little, grinning, easy. He felt, for lack of a better word, unpracticed at all of this. Back on the island, and even throughout college, he had never really had a group of close friends. It had always been easier, better even, to keep to himself. People tended to just disappoint him. Almost a tradition in his life. The assurance that people wouldn’t fail to let him down was one of the only stable things he had growing up. They couldn’t do that if he didn’t give them any part of himself to break. He took an absentminded sip of his drink again, barely even registering the action. John was talking now. He could hear him through the fog in his brain, going on about something, his voice raising a little in volume as he continued. Alex tried to focus on the words, but it was almost as if a wall had gone up. It felt like time was moving different, slower, and he wasn’t sure why or how. He kept his hand on the back of the couch, feeling for some absurd reason like he would collapse if he didn’t have something grounding him here in the present. 

Then John’s hand was wrapped around his shoulder. _Where did he come from?_ And suddenly he felt his mind being dragged back to the room, back to his body in this moment, solid and real with the three of them. “Hey, you alright?” He had a hard time imagining what he looked like right now. He couldn’t even gauge how long he had been standing there by himself in the corner. But he stared back into John’s piercing eyes and smiled as he nodded, the warmth of his face heating his blood and his heart, thawing out his discomfort with no more than a glance.

“Yeah, I’m good.” He allowed John to tug him back down the couch, his arm falling into place over his shoulders again, and leaned into the conversation. Hercules was sitting on the other side of him, telling the other two the story of when he and Alex first met, and he ruffled his hair affectionately as he commented on how none of his clothes fit but his books had been in pristine condition. Alex shoved his hand away, but he laughed with everyone else, appreciating the camaraderie and the way John squeezed his shoulder the tiniest bit. He finished the last of his drink, tilting his head back to get the last drops out of the can. 

“Everyone else will be arriving shortly,” Lafayette commented, his own can empty in front of him. There was a mischievous glint in his eye as he assessed the rest of them. “Shall we do a round of birthday shots? 

The other two were quick to express their enthusiasm, so Alex joined in readily, content to follow their lead for the moment. He relaxed his posture as Lafayette went to get the shots, resting his head lightly against John’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. 

“I can’t tell if this is intentional PDA,” Hercules joked, watching the two of them with an amused look. “Or if you’re just so small that you’re _already_ drunk off of one drink.”

“Piss off,” Alex told him, still smiling and not moving despite the comment. 

John leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head before nudging him upright. “I’m going to help Lafayette,” he said, getting to his feet, grinning as well. 

“You’re very smitten,” Hercules teased with a smug look once John was out of earshot. 

“And you’re very irritating.”

“I’m serious,” he said, though he was still laughing a little bit. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this with anyone. It’s nice. You seem happy with him around.”

“I am.” The sentiment didn’t reach his eyes as conflicting thoughts flashed inside his head. Yes, he was happy when he was with John _like this_. When they were comfortable and alone, when his guard was down. But that didn’t erase the lingering disappointment every time they transitioned from privacy to anything more public. The happiness was nice, but it was always fleeting. Only brief glimpses of something that might someday be more. 

Hercules gave him a questioning look, clearly picking up on something in the lines of his face, even without Alex saying a word about all of the messy, complicated feelings running marathons in his mind, but he didn’t have a chance to comment on it before Lafayette and John returned, each carrying over two dangerously full shot glasses, Lafayette with two of them in one hand and a plate of lime wedges and some salt precariously held in his other hand. 

“You’re gonna spill,” Hercules called over, exasperated, as he got up from the couch, grabbing the plate from him to free up his hand and putting it down on the coffee table with a clatter. 

John passed one of the shots over the back of the couch to Alex, smiling as his fingers brushed warm skin. 

“Tequila?” Alex questioned, grinning when he got a nod in response. “Excellent.” 

Lafayette finally made it around the couch to stand next to them, his second shot passed off to Hercules at some point. The four of them licked the backs of their hands, prepared the salt for the shots. When all of them were ready, John raised his glass with his other hand in a toast, holding it high and waiting for the others to do the same through scattered laughter. “To the birthday boy,” he said, his voice echoing with enthusiasm in the large room. “And the best party host in New York City.” 

“And to my friends!” Lafayette added on quickly with a beaming smile. 

They all went to move at the same time, but before John could lick the back of his hand, Alex pulled it to his face instead, swiping his tongue over the salt with a smug look and knocking back his shot with a sharp burn deep in his throat. It tasted like freedom from every damn complicated situation woven so tightly between the two of them, and he would have been happy to drown in it. 

“Hey,” John laughed. “You jerk. Come here.” He grabbed Alex’s wrist and tugged him forward to the laughter of the other two, licking the salt off of his skin and belatedly downing his own tequila before biting down to suck on the lime. Alex could still feel the memory of where his fingers grabbed roughly against his skin, pressing down against the bones of his wrist, the action intimately familiar, combined with the feeling of John’s tongue against him. He bit his lip, his mouth still full of heat from the burn of the alcohol as a sharp rush of desire hit him. Fuck, it wasn’t _fair_ that other people would be here any minute. It had all happened so quickly and Hercules and Lafayette were still laughing, making teasing, lighthearted comments. Alex just offered a grin, a flash of teeth, as he struggled to stay in the moment. 

The carefree ease was shattered in mere seconds as the ding of the elevator alerted them all to new arrivals making their way up. He straightened his spine instinctively, running a hand back through his hair to fix any strands that had fallen out of place and scooching over half a foot on the couch as Lafayette got up, gathering the plate and the empty shot glasses to dump them all in the sink. Alex hesitated, unsure whether he should stay here, on the couch, so close to John where the temptation to touch was nearly overwhelming. At the same time, he didn’t want to leave John alone either. 

“Let’s have another round,” Hercules said to the two of them, standing himself and resting a hand heavily on Alex’s shoulder. He was immediately grateful for the escape, wondering if it had been intentional on Hercules’s part, and sprung to his feet, his exhaustion from earlier in the night forgotten in favor of nervous excitement. He reached a hand out to pull John up as well, one last lingering touch before the elevator doors slid open and the party began in earnest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What time is it? SHOWTIME (aka party time)
> 
> Leave your thoughts or whatever else your heart desires to type in the comments! 
> 
> Come hang out on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	23. Chapter 23

Even after knowing Lafayette fairly well and taking part in the planning all week, John was not prepared for the exact level of untamed energy in the room, but he leaned into it, the constant roar of noise feeding into the loose feeling in his limbs as he stood in a tight circle with some of the guys from work, as well as a few other people he didn’t recognize, so that they could hear each other over everything else. The air, cooled by night and a gentle breeze, felt good against his skin, keeping him more or less alert against the buzz of alcohol clouding his brain and thrumming through his veins. He laughed with the rest of them as Ben told a joke, the noise seeming to take up his whole frame of consciousness for a moment until it settled back to a lower volume. He closed his eyes just briefly, breathing in the liberating feeling of an inconsequential night. When he opened them again, he almost jumped to see someone new, yet familiar, standing beside him. 

“Hey Aaron,” he said, trying to hide the surprise in his voice. It was as much from his sudden appearance as from the fact that Aaron Burr didn’t tend to go to things like this. John was pretty sure he had started with the intern group that Alex was a part of, but he hadn’t spoken with him much. He didn’t go to their happy hours and mostly kept to himself during work. What little John knew of him, he only knew by accident, snippets of conversation from others in the office, from Alex or Lafayette. 

“Hello.” He gave him a close-lipped smile and a nod. He seemed more sober than the rest of them, and somehow that didn’t surprise John in the slightest. 

He looked him up and down, his forehead creasing just a little bit. “I didn’t know you and Lafayette were friends.”

The smile grew a little more forced now, but he shrugged. “We’re acquaintances, and he invited the whole office I believe.”

“Yeah,” John answered, distinctly remembering some off color remarks Lafayette had made about his feelings for Aaron. “That’s true.” 

The silence between them lasted just long enough that John had started to pay attention to the rest of the circle again, trying to catch up with the parts of the conversation he had missed, when Aaron broke his concentration again. 

“How are you liking the city? You just started here in August, right?” 

“July,” John corrected instinctively and with a bit of irrational annoyance without actually answering the question.

“Ah, yes. Sorry, July.” He breathed a soft laugh, tilting his head to the side a little as he appraised him. “It must be quite a change from the South.” 

John felt a tingle of nerves run through him, though the comment was innocent enough. “I guess.” He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s different. Good though. I was ready for a change.”

Aaron nodded. “I hear New York is a good place for that. 

John didn’t respond, and he was thankful that this time Aaron remained quiet as well. Though he did remain standing in the circle of their coworkers, silently sipping at his drink from his red solo cup and watching the rest of them with calm interest. Standing next to him was making John feel indescribably self conscious, like he was being observed almost, so at the next chance he excused himself from the conversation to try and find Lafayette.   
  


Alex had been sitting on the other side of the expansive patio, claiming a corner of one of the outdoor couches, Hercules squeezed in beside him to make room for the other party guests who had migrated over at various points. A stone-lined fire pit was ablaze in front of them, sending flickering, warm light over the group. It wasn’t really cold enough out to justify it, but the aesthetic was nice enough. A burst of loud laughter rang out, and Alex leaned heavily against Hercules’s side before straightening up again and catching his breath, double checking to make sure he hadn’t spilled any of his drink as he did. As he looked, he noticed that he _hadn’t_ spilled, but the reason for that was that the cup was nearly empty. He frowned, not sure when the level had gotten so low, and finished it off in one long sip. “I’ll be right back,” he told Hercules, placing one hand clumsily on his arm to make sure he had his attention. 

“Okay, but hurry up. I’m not fighting people to save your spot.” Hercules gave him a grin, then turned back to the group at large. 

The inside of the apartment was quieter, but just barely. He glanced around to see if John or Lafayette was around, but didn’t spot either of them. Which wasn’t overly shocking considering the sheer size of Lafayette’s apartment and the amount of people packed into it and out on the patio. He had apparently told all of his guests to invite whomever they wanted, and his guests had obviously _listened_. He briefly wondered if this was against some sort of fire code as he went over to the counter to pour himself another drink, only to find that the bottle of rum was empty. He frowned at it in disappointment before remembering they had gotten extras. Pushed the bottle out of the way to the other end of the counter and sorted through one of the cabinets underneath until he found the replacement he was looking for, cracking the seal on it and placing it back up in the now empty spot along the line of liquor with a loud clink as it came into contact with the granite countertop. Realized a second later that he shouldn’t have put it down before actually _pouring himself a drink_ , and shook his head. He measured out a generous portion of the rum before grabbing a bottle of Coke out of the fridge and topping the cup off. He had filled it nearly to the rim, so he took a few careful sips until he felt it was safe to walk with. 

He was about to head back outside when the elevator dinged once again, the doors opening to reveal three new guests that were strikingly familiar. The picture he had been studying that morning flashed in his mind, and the Schuyler sisters looked nearly exactly the same. Just as impeccably poised and beautiful, though not as dressed up as they had been at the gala. They were chattering with one another as they stepped across the threshold, glancing around the room at the chaos of the party, by now in full swing. Angelica’s sweeping gaze fell on him and stopped, making eye contact that lasted just a little too long and he couldn’t bring it in himself to look away, not with the liquor still buzzing pleasantly in his blood and the way her stare pierced into him with a curious heat. The other two broke away, wandering in the direction of the living room where they waved to some other guests that they must have known, all smiles and loud, excited greetings. Angelica waited, her lips turning up at the corner, and Alex found himself crossing the distance without consciously thinking about it. Her eyes tracked him as he moved, and there was something about those eyes. Intelligence, an assertive confidence, quick and sharp and infinitely compelling. He took a deep breath as he stopped in front of her, one of her perfect eyebrows arched in anticipation. 

“You strike me,” he said, a playful smile on his face. “As a very singular woman.” 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” She gave him a smile, a flash of teeth, in return, and when Alex held out his hand, a gesture entirely too formal in a room full of people halfway down the road to blacking out, she accepted it anyway. “My name is Angelica Schuyler.”

“Alexander Hamilton.” He felt his heart catch in his chest as he stared into her eyes, still watching him intensely. There was too much fire in those eyes, too much passion, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he should back off. But it felt _exciting_ , and good, and there was still the encouraging buzz of rum and tequila in his brain urging him on. 

“And what brings you here tonight, Alexander Hamilton?” Her eyes glinted, echoing back the flirtation that he desperately wanted to deny was apparent in his own face. 

“I’m friends with the host. We work together.” He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. 

“Really?” she said, a sly smile on her face, appraising him a little more closely. “I suppose we’ll be coworkers then. I’m starting at the same office on Monday.” 

“I know,” Alex blurted out, not thinking about how it would sound until the words had left his lips. She laughed a little in surprise, and he felt color rise to his cheeks. “I only mean, I work closely with our boss sometimes. He’s mentioned your name.” 

“Ah, I see.” She gave him a knowing smirk. “And did he mention my family as well?” She rested a hand on his arm where he leaned against the kitchen island. He glanced down at the touch but didn’t pull away. 

“Perhaps.” He returned her gaze with a raise of his eyebrows, feeling the challenge in her eyes, and unwilling to back down. 

“So you know who my parents are,” she said, blunt and teasing. “What about your family, Alexander?” 

“Unimportant,” he brushed the question off, lifting his drink up to take a steadying sip. “There’s a million things I haven’t done yet, Angelica. But just you wait. Someday everyone will know my name as well.” He felt the confidence swell inside of him, bolstered by his recent assignment to her father’s speech and the party and exuberance all around him and the way that she kept _staring_ at him. “Would you like a drink?” He motioned to the counter of various bottles and cups not far away. 

“That would be lovely, thank you.” Her tongue darted out along her lower lip, just for a brief millisecond, but Alex caught it. “I’ll be back in just a moment, if you don’t mind.” She turned abruptly, her heeled boots clicking against the hardwoods as she made her way over to her sisters. Alex turned as she walked away, busying himself with the bottles and cups in front of him, realizing he forgot to ask what she’d like and deciding to just wing it. He tried to steady himself. Reminded himself John was nearby, somewhere in this mess of people, waiting just like he was until the end of the night when they could go back to one of their apartments and be _together_ again. But fuck it was hard to think about that, because why shouldn’t they be together _right now_? If it were anyone else. If it were _Angelica_ , his slightly drunk mind supplied latching onto the idea easily enough. There would be no barrier. No restriction. He could do and say what he wanted and no harm would come of it. He felt his breath hitch in his chest and capped the bottle in his hand, placing it back down with more force than necessary. He turned around, drink in hand, to see her walking back over, her middle sister on her arm. The two of them made a stunning pair, Angelica in a cropped top with matching skirt, her legs seeming endless as she guided her sister over, and Eliza in dark, tight-fitting jeans and a flowy, floral tank top, the way she held her head above delicate shoulders looking almost regal. She smiled at her sister, something secretive and bubbly, bursting with the practice of inside jokes that couldn’t be spoken aloud in mixed company. 

When they reached him, Alex held out the drink to Angelica, freeing his hand only to take Eliza’s as she offered it to him. “Elizabeth Schuyler,” she said with a shy smile that made his heart flutter a little too fast in his chest. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alexander.” 

Alex looked back at Angelica. She was grinning, but there was something else in her eyes. Something he couldn’t quite unravel. He quirked one eyebrow at her, and she flashed her teeth in a wider smile. “My sister,” she said, as if answering some unspoken question. 

He turned back to Eliza, still holding her delicate hand, and he realized with a surge of embarrassment that he had been holding it for several moments too long. He let go, almost reluctantly, and smiled back at her. “And would you like a drink as well, Elizabeth?” he asked with a tilt of his head. 

“Eliza,” she corrected. “And I would like that, yes.”

“Well, if we’re getting familiar now, it’s Alex.” He could feel the flirtatious look on his face without being able to see it, emanating from the words and the buzzing feeling underneath his skin. He hadn’t meant for it to come out with quite that tone, but now that he was here, he didn’t try to stop it either. 

“Thanks for the drink, Alexander,” Angelica said with a wink, teasingly ignoring his last comment. “I need to make a round and see who I know. I’ll see you later, Eliza,” she added, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to head outside. Alex watched as she walked away, his brain still trying to catch up with everything that was happening. 

“About that drink?” Eliza said, her smile growing wider. 

“Sorry, on it.” He was starting to wonder if he was turning into the party bartender as he mixed his third drink in such a short span of time. But with Eliza’s gaze on him, warm and kind as leaned back against the cool stone of the countertops, he found he didn’t mind. “Any preference?”

“Something with vodka.” He busied himself again with the process, pouring her significantly less liquor than he had added to his own drink. She seemed so _tiny_. “So, Alex.” The way his name sounded on her tongue was almost beautiful, soft and smooth and entirely more than it deserved. “I hear you’re going to be working with my sister.”

“You hear correctly,” he answered, handing over her drink and watching as she looked down into the cup before taking a tentative sip. 

“Oh, this is good,” she enthused. 

“Thanks.” He could feel the heat, still slightly red in his face, and he wondered if it had more to do with her praise or the flush from the alcohol. “I can make you another when you finish, if you’d like.”

“You don’t have friends you need to get back to?”

“They’ll get by without me.” The air felt too heavy, and he placed his own cup on the counter behind him, aware he was playing a very dangerous game. 

“You’re writing a speech for my father, aren’t you?”

The question caught him off guard, and he blinked a few times, trying to process, feeling like he was swimming against a current of his own thoughts. 

When he didn’t answer right away she laughed, and it was a charming sound. Light, vibrant. Like a brook tumbling into tiny waterfalls as the sun sparkled off of it from above. “I’m sorry. I suppose I shouldn’t know that. It’s just, your boss, Washington, has told him about your work, and he’s quite excited to see the result. I knew your name sounded familiar. My father actually has someone on his own staff who tends to take care of things like speeches, but he just couldn’t get this one right. Too much technical babble about economics I think. After a poor first attempt he had decided it was best to look elsewhere.”

“Oh.” He breathed out the sound, and his face only grew warmer. Senator Schuyler had mentioned him at the dinner table with his family? What sort of alternate universe was he living in? He chewed on the inside of his lip, trying to make sense of it. Trying to figure out the next words to say, as Eliza reached behind him to rest her drink on the counter as well, her hand brushing up against his arm in a moment where their eyes met, and Alex was aware they were just a little too close. He pulled away hurriedly when he caught John out of the corner of his eye, the sliding door to the patio closing behind him. He swallowed hard, guilt like nausea as it rose up in his throat, and waved him over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Schuyler Sisters! (and a little Aaron Burr)
> 
> I'm literally nervous for these characters about all of this rereading the chapter, and I wrote the damn thing. 
> 
> Please leave comments, yell at me, whatever, down below! 
> 
> And come yell at me on tumblr too @ilovefoodandgirls


	24. Chapter 24

John noticed Alex a few seconds before he looked up from his conversation. His face was flushed, leaning against the kitchen counter, staring into the eyes of a girl who was basically pressed up against him. The two of them looked far too intimate, tucked away from the party at large. John could feel the blood surging hot in his veins, could feel his breathing quicken as his heart pounded harder. He clenched his jaw, about to turn around and go back outside when, of all things, Alex _waved him over_. He felt some primitive urge to stake his claim, and it took effort to push that aside, as much because no one was supposed to know they were together as because it was a ridiculous notion in the first place. 

As it was, he couldn’t keep the tension from his shoulders as he crossed the room. He stopped just in front of both of them, raising a hand in greeting to Alex. 

“John! I’ve been wondering where you got off to.” John couldn’t quite tell if the two of them had put some space between them while he walked over, or if the proximity had been an illusion, a trick of the angle he was looking from. 

“I was just outside with some of the guys from work,” he said, his eyes flickering to Eliza’s and then back to Alex’s. “Where have _you_ been?” He wasn’t sure if it came out as accusatory as it felt, but Alex showed no sign of acknowledging if it did. 

“I was with Herc for a while. Then I came in to get a drink and…” he tapered off, turning to Eliza as if just realizing something. “Shit, sorry, I’m being rude. I should introduce you two. Eliza, this is John Laurens,” he said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “And John, this is Eliza Schuyler.” 

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said with a nod of his head and a forced smile.

“You as well.” Eliza’s smile was more genuine, reaching her eyes and giving off a warmth that did nothing but make his skin crawl. “Laurens… are you related to Senator Laurens?” 

He felt Alex’s eyes digging into him, waiting to see how he’d answer the question, and he wished he could tell him to cut it out. “Yeah, he’s my father.” He brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck, wondering what was going on behind her inquisitive eyes, what types of conclusions she was drawing from that fact alone. 

However, her smile didn’t falter as she considered him. “I didn’t know you had moved to New York. I hope you’re liking it alright. I know it’s not for everyone, but I’ve always loved it.” She took a sip of her drink, eyes shifting between the two of them over the rim of her cup. 

“Yes, I’m liking it _just fine_.” The words came out harsher than he intended, but he couldn’t find it in himself to try and correct course. His eyes fell on Alex, rather than Eliza, after he spoke, and he noticed the crease in his forehead as he frowned at the tone. 

“John, are you feeling alright?” Alex asked, his voice strained as he looked at him with raised brows. It pushed him even closer to the tipping point, because Alex of all damn people had no right to be judging his reaction right now. 

“Never better,” he replied, voice clipped. He passed the two of them, grabbing another beer from the fridge. “I’m going back outside. I’ll see you later if you’re not too busy.” And with that he left them, stalking back out the door into refreshing air, pausing just outside to collect himself before joining back in with everyone else.

  
  
  


“Was it something I said?” Eliza asked as soon as the sliding door had shut, a bit too loudly, behind John. 

“No.” Alex brought his hands up to his closed eyes, rubbing in small circles as he tried to recount everything that had gone wrong there. “You’ve done nothing but be perfectly polite and friendly to the both of us, Eliza.” He knew he couldn’t go into details with anyone who didn’t know about their relationship already, but it would be especially troublesome to let the Schuyler sisters catch wind of everything John was trying so desperately to keep under wraps. After all, the girls had practically grown up in the world of politics, and he had no doubts about the speed with which gossip could travel. “Just, don’t worry about it alright?”

“Is he okay?” She sounded genuinely concerned. If there were no one there to hear him Alex would have let out an exasperated groan at how fucking _kind_ she was being even after all of that. Even after she had every right to view him with distaste after that shit show of a first impression.

“Yeah, he’s fine. I promise.” He didn’t know if it was true or not of course, but he couldn’t stand to let that look of worry remain on her face. He glanced down at the hardwood floor, and he knew he should go check on John, but he was struck in a manner so harsh it was almost dizzying by how much he didn’t want to do that right now. He wanted to stay here with Eliza, join in with her sisters maybe, and just enjoy the night properly. It’s not like it was _his choice_ to hide their relationship after all. Why should he have to walk on eggshells all night just to avoid misunderstandings and hurt feelings? If anything, John should be worried about _his_ feelings with all of this. Maybe he hadn’t explained in detail how much he hated the idea of coming here and lying to everyone, putting up some charade where he didn’t just want to stick like glue to John’s side the whole night, but he thought it had been obvious enough. He had thought John could tell just how much he had been dreading the thought of it as he kept himself distracted with work all week. He dropped his hands back to his sides, and with his eyes unobstructed, he found Eliza watching him closely, almost carefully. Her face softened into something he mistook for pity before piecing together that it was sympathy. 

“Do you want to go check on him?” 

The question was the perfect opportunity to excuse himself gracefully, without any hint of suspicion because she was the one who asked it of him in the first place. But truthfully, it was the last thing he wanted in that moment, and he swallowed, his throat feeling too dry as he shook his head. “He’ll be alright. I’ve finally found enjoyable company at this party, and I’d be hard pressed to leave it now.”

She flashed him a charming smile, and he leaned more heavily against the granite, doing his best to ease away the guilt in favor of actually having a good time tonight.

  
  
  
He had joined Eliza with her sisters over in the living room, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands constantly moving and gesturing as he argued with Angelica over technicalities of international trading. 

“You’re both arguing the same point,” Eliza pointed out from the other side of Alex on the couch, her lips quirked up in amusement at how heated the conversation had grown. 

“Not _exactly_ the same point,” Alex emphasized, though the intensity in his eyes toned down at her comment. 

“Alexander.” Angelica leaned in again, uncrossing her legs as she did so. “You must realize that certain actions are necessary to bolster American trading in an economy that’s becoming increasingly globalized.”

“Of _course_ I realize that,” he fired back, affronted at any thought to the contrary. “But you can’t advocate for those policies without discussing the implications of them on an economy where there are no restrictions in place to ensure the profits are actually going back _into_ the economy. And when we leave those restrictions in the hands of the states, rather than at a federal level, we’re just giving large corporations more incentive to set up shop in the states with the fewest protections.”

“Arguably the states with the fewest protections should also be the states with a scarcity of workers.”

“Not when those areas also have lower cost of living. You may not have the same density of workers, but it’s easy enough to convince people to relocate for a position when their pay goes further towards actually having disposable income.”

“You’re both boring me,” Peggy grumbled from Eliza’s other side, resting her chin in her hand. “Can we discuss something more interesting?” 

Eliza wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to her side. “Such as?”

“We could discuss literally anything and it would be more compelling than _this_.”

Eliza laughed, that charming, captivating laugh, and Alex found he had lost his train of thought as he glanced over at her. He had had a few more drinks since the girls had arrived, and the buzz in his brain was more pronounced now. It wasn’t that his mind wasn’t sharp, but rather more prone to distraction, and the connection between his thoughts and his actions had taken on a sluggish quality. He found himself grinning, though he wasn’t sure when exactly the look had come over his face. 

“Did you want to head outside?” he asked the group at large with his eyes still fixed on Eliza. 

“God, yes,” Peggy responded, getting to her feet before anyone else could chime in. “It’s too crowded in here. Plus, I bet this place has a great view.”

“Yeah.” Alex felt his head rush as he stood too quickly, and threw his hand out for balance, though he managed not to stumble. “The view is amazing. Really good at night like this, with all the lights. Come on,” he said, offering a hand to help Eliza up as well. 

Angelica, already on her feet, was watching them with a strange look. He made momentary eye contact, trying to unpack her expression, before Eliza used her hold on his hand to tug him in the direction of the door. “Alex? Are you coming?” He breathed out a quiet noise, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, and nodded. 

“Sorry, yeah.” When he glanced back over, that expression was gone, replaced with a mask of disinterested cheerfulness so well-crafted that his mind drifted to masquerades rather than house parties. 

  
  
John had come across Lafayette in the back corner of the patio, laughing and talking with a group of friends that he didn’t recognize. When they made eye contact from a short distance, he excused himself from the rest of them, maneuvering through people to come stand in front of John. 

“What’s wrong?” He was clearly a little drunk, his accent coming out thicker than usual as he grabbed him by the shoulders and stared closely down into his face. 

“Nothing,” John lied, shaking his hands off. 

Lafayette frowned, concern in the furrow of his brow. “Come,” he said, motioning for him to follow as he weaved through the crowd to a slightly more secluded area of the patio blocked off from the rest of the space by a row of plants. “Something is wrong. You look wrong.”

“I look wrong?” he echoed back, trying to inject humor over the word choice into his tone, but his voice still fell flat. 

“Mon dieu,” he muttered, exasperated. “Upset. You look _upset_ , John. Tell me what happened. You have to do as I say, it’s my birthday.”

“It’s not your real birthday.”

Lafayette gave a growl of frustration as he checked his watch. “It will be in less than an hour. You can tell me now, or I’ll lock you in my room until midnight and then ask you again.”

“Piss off.” He turned away, about to leave, thoughts of Alex and Eliza together in the kitchen still painfully sharp in his mind, when Lafayette grabbed his arm. The instinct to turn and swing at him ran sharp through his body, some leftover relic from the days when he’d search out fights in high school, constantly angry at the world and looking for someone to take it out on. It took a certain amount of willpower to resist that urge now. 

Lafayette stared at his strained form for another moment, as if considering his options, then sighed. “We don’t have to talk about it, alright? Please, just come sit with me for a while. I’ve barely seen you all night.” 

John let out a harsh breath, but acquiesced, allowing Lafayette to lead him over to some cushioned wooden chairs that were somehow still empty in the midst of all the people outside. He was still fuming, and the party, the noise, it was all too much. The sound of laughter from nearby was both distant and thunderous in his ears. He thought for a second that he could distinctly hear _Alex’s_ laughter, but when he turned to look, he was nowhere to be seen. “Would you like some water?” Lafayette’s voice was too close, and he closed his eyes against the swell of nausea in his chest. 

“No.”

“Are you sure? It might help.”

“I’m _fine_ , Lafayette.” He bit back the string of curses he wanted to scream. Not the right place. Not the right _person_. He watched as Lafayette held his own tongue in favor of pulling out his phone. John just watched, wondering if his pissy attitude had bored him that quickly. Then he felt his own phone buzz in his pocket. He sighed, fumbling to pull it out and unlock it, taking a few tries before finally getting it right. Had to focus on the screen for a few seconds before the words came into clear view. 

Lafayette: I’m assuming this is about Alex. If you really don’t want to talk about that’s alright but you can also text me. Or you can just not use his name. It won’t be obvious and no one is paying us any attention.

Lafayette: *about it

He swallowed down the anxiety pounding deep in his chest and nodded. “Yeah, it is.” Speaking the words aloud, vague as they were, threatened to break something inside of him. Some fragile strength that he had been clinging onto desperately. He felt his breathing start to come faster, stuttering and shattered as he brought his hand up in front of his face. “Fuck.” He took a minute, doing his best to take deep breaths. Frustrated each time a hitch in the airflow fucked it up. When he finally felt like his voice wouldn’t break he tried again. “Sorry. I would text you this shit, but I don’t think I can manage typing right now.”

Lafayette looked like he was about to lean towards him, maybe to give him a hug or pat him on the back. Some sort of comforting gesture. But he must have thought better of it because he leaned back in his chair again, resignation evident in the slouch of his shoulders. _Good_ , John thought. He didn’t want anyone touching him. He didn’t want anyone even _looking_ at him in all honesty. It was bad enough Lafayette was witnessing him break down _again_. The last thing he needed was a visible gesture of his pity. 

“Water would help with that,” he said instead, giving him a stern look. “You know, with the drunkness.”

“Drunkenness,” John corrected with a quiet snort. A moment of genuine superficial amusement that didn’t quite reach his heart. 

“Yes. Exactly. I can get you some from inside. You can stay right here, just sit, and I’ll get it.”

“I don’t want any.” He turned to the side stubbornly, his senses swimming with the movement.

“Do you think making yourself feel worse will help? Do you think it will make you feel better somehow?” Lafayette asked with an edge of frustration and worry in his voice. 

John’s jaw tightened as he kept his gaze steadily focused on some distant point of the Manhattan skyline, far past all of the people and the party and everything that was going wrong right now. He felt a slight shiver run over his skin though the night wasn’t at all cold. “No, Lafayette,” he snapped through gritted teeth. “I want it to make me feel numb, goddammit. I don’t want to feel _anything_. Jealousy or confusion or love.” Lafayette’s eyes widened a little in surprise at the word choice, but John hadn’t even realized what he said. “Fuck, I don’t want to feel any of it. It’d be so much easier if I didn’t. If I could just be _normal_.”

It took a beat longer than usual for Lafayette to speak, but John didn’t notice through his own lagging senses. “John, you _are_ normal. As normal as anyone else is.”

“Fuck off, you know what I mean.” _Straight_. Even if there weren’t anyone else around, he wouldn’t have wanted to say it. It felt too much like saying he was ashamed of it, and he _wasn’t_. Not really. He wasn’t ashamed of it, he just wished it wasn’t true. Wished he could be happy with the life that was handed to him, that he could be content playing the role he was _supposed_ to play, because what type of asshole doesn’t accept a five course meal on a silver platter? And how goddamn unfair was it that none of that traditional bullshit was expected of Alex, and yet he _could_ still flirt with a girl so easily? 

Lafayette was silent for long enough this time that John started to notice after his initial internal reaction started to taper off. He looked back now, the dull glare in his eyes a challenge to contradict him. 

“Yes, I do.” The words were slow, careful. He considered him for a long, unnerving moment before sighing and speaking again. “Look, if you intend to stay here, and I suggest you do because you are in no state to try to make your way home, and I _will_ feel obligated to walk you back if you try to leave, which would really not be fair because it’s _my_ party, then you should at least have something to eat. There are snacks on the table over there. You need to, ah… sober up?” 

“Fine.” He couldn’t really argue. His head was swimming and his tongue was tingling in his mouth. Every movement blurred the city lights around them, a swirling, mesmerizing, nauseating mess of gold against the dark backdrop. And if eating some chips would make Lafayette shut up it might damn well be worth it. 

They were halfway to the snack table when Lafayette stopped short. “Merde,” he cursed instinctively, and John followed his line of sight with a knot already forming in his stomach. Alex was sitting with a group of people over by the fire pit, Eliza practically draped over him, Hercules on the other side of the couch telling a story. Alex wasn’t looking at Hercules though, he was looking down at Eliza as she said something more quietly for his ears alone. He felt the rage rise in his throat and he wasn’t sure for a moment if he was going to storm over there or be sick. The tiny, rational corner of his brain that wasn’t covered by the fog of alcohol told him that both would be ill advised and draw far too much attention to himself. So he turned on his heel and hurried back into the apartment, his steps quick and sure despite the slight wobble in his legs. He moved through the main living area without missing a beat, avoiding eye contact with every single person as if just looking at him would somehow give away every little secret he guarded so carefully. Apologized belatedly as he accidentally knocked into some girl as he made his way down the hall and decisively grabbed the bathroom doorknob only to find it locked. The panicked sense of betrayal was quickly overwhelming his senses as he thought through the moment again and again, and he didn’t realize how shallow his breaths were coming until he felt a hand grab his bicep and steer him further down the hall. He blinked, clearing the tears that had started to gather, and turned his head just barely, just enough to see that it was Lafayette next to him again. _Alex was right_ , he thought bitterly. They _should_ have gotten him a present. Fuck, he deserved it after all the bullshit he had been putting up with. He watched in a haze as Lafayette pulled a key out of his pocket, unlocking his bedroom door and carefully closing it behind the two of them. “Sorry,” he said, for some insane reason sounding apologetic. “I had locked it so that people wouldn’t try to fool around in my bed.”

John just stared back blankly. 

“Stay here as long as you need.” Lafayette gave him a long, sympathetically contemplating look. “I have to go back out, alright?” When he didn’t say a word, Lafayette tried again. “John, I am serious. Text me if you need anything, alright? Or call me. Just, please, stay here until you’re feeling more calm. I’ll be back in a little while.” He gave one last worried, backward glance before closing the door behind him. 

Finally alone, John sat on the edge of the bed, the comforter soft under his fingers as he twisted his grip in the bedding, desperate for some sort of grounding contact with _anything_. His shoulders tight, arms perfectly rigid at his sides, he finally let himself break a little bit. Bit down _hard_ on his lip to stop the louder noise of anger that threatened him, trapped somewhere at the base of his throat as he let out a hiss of frustration instead. When he finally eased off, he could taste blood in his mouth. “Shit!” he yelled, just once, driving one fist down into the mattress with as much force as he could muster, the anger and raw emotion bringing a startling amount of clarity back to his mind which had been so hindered by booze just a short while ago. He felt the force of a sob shake through his shoulders, but he choked the noise down, staring at his fist and hoping that he’d pass out from the weight of everything that had unfolded. Maybe he’d wake up and find out it was some terrible dream.

He wasn’t about to get his hopes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by cringe and angst 
> 
> Please yell at me in the comments 
> 
> Yell at me on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	25. Chapter 25

Alex was still outside on the couch, oblivious to the more recent drama and enjoying the company and the warm breeze on his skin and general feeling of ease, when Lafayette came up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Alex, can we have a word in private?” 

Alex startled, turning sharply and jostling Eliza where she leaned lightly against his arm. “Jesus, where the fuck did you come from?”

“I live here.” He raised his brows at the outburst, but kept his expression unsettlingly serious. 

“You know what I meant.” He glanced back around at the rest of the group with a sudden gleam of realization in his eyes. “Oh, Lafayette, have you met the Schuylers yet?”

He couldn’t stop the low, irritated growl that came from his throat, annoyed by the change in subject, before he responded. “It’s nice to meet you all.” He gave the girls a quick wave and a forced, but realistic-looking smile, then put his hand back on Alex’s shoulder to reign his attention back in. “Alex, please, come speak with me for a moment.”

“I’m a little busy,” he said, Lafayette’s insistence and the undercurrent of something like concern underneath it only winding him up into a state of rebellious indignation. _Fuck_ whatever this was about, and he had a pretty good feeling he knew what it was about. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was finally enjoying himself, a state that had been harder and harder to achieve out in public over the last couple of months with John’s insistence on discretion, and he hadn’t stepped over any bounds. Despite the fact that he had lived in New York for a few years at this point, he didn’t have many close friends, and _this_? The way these three girls so easily and gracefully fit him into their circle? The way Peggy offered up gossip about those in political circles, and Angelica was willing and more than able to debate with him on nearly any subject, and the way Eliza was so incredibly _kind_ and gentle and the way her skin felt as it brushed against his arm… _fuck_. Okay. Maybe it wasn’t completely innocent. But he hadn’t _done_ anything. 

“ _Alexander_ ,” Lafayette emphasized, settling his weight down on his shoulder a little more firmly. “I really must insist we have a quick talk.” His voice was colder than ice, and Alex realized it would be downright suspicious to keep refusing him. 

“Fine,” he groaned, disapproval heavy in the sound. He got to his feet, feeling his body sway in place for a moment as he readjusted to the new way gravity was weighing down on him. He followed Lafayette over to a distant corner, completely deserted and far enough away that there was no chance anyone of consequence would hear them.

Lafayette stared at him icily for several seconds then took a harsh breath. “What in the world are you doing?”

“What?” Immediately defensive, he squared up and met Lafayette’s eyes. “I’m not _doing_ anything, Lafayette.”

Lafayette rolled his eyes and switched into French to keep the conversation as discreet as he could given the circumstances. “You’re flirting.”

“I am _not_ flirting.” Getting the hint and the need for caution, as much as he hated that this was an area where he needed to exercise discretion, Alex switched languages as well. 

“Yes you are. You’re flirting with that girl who was leaning up against you and smiling at you like the two of you were a couple of teenagers.”

“I am not _flirting_ with Eliza.”

“John saw you.”

“Yes, I know. In the kitchen.” He let out an irritated sigh, figuring that was where this was heading. Like he didn’t have enough to deal with without John _tattling_ on him to Lafayette. 

“No.” Lafayette pulled back a little, raising his eyebrows in surprise at that new bit of information. He shook his head in disbelief. “My god, Alex. How many times did you let John see you flirting with her?”

Through his indignation and the alcohol still fogging his judgement, it was easy to respond on instinct alone. “Just the once I thought!” He realized his mistake a second too late. “Not that I _was_ _flirting_ with her.” He bit the inside of his cheek, shifting his weight between his feet and swaying a little again. 

“Alex,” Lafayette groaned, desperation starting to tinge his tone as he continued. “It doesn’t matter if _you_ thought you were flirting with her. John thought you were. And now he’s very upset. You can’t just do things like this regardless of other people’s feelings–”

“And what about my feelings?” he nearly yelled, still in French, holding his hands out to his sides palms up in a gesture of hopeless frustration. “Fuck, I’ve been doing so much more than everyone for my whole life and now, even in my _relationship_ , I’m being asked to do _more_. It’s _his_ decision not to be open about this! It’s all for _him_ and _his_ family and _his_ feelings! Why can’t this be the one goddamn thing that’s easy? Why should I have to put so much effort into it?” He was seething, hurt written across the contours of his face, and he maintained eye contact with Lafayette the whole time. Never backing down, never dropping the fragile confidence in his posture.

“Because that’s what you do when someone is important to you.” Lafayette was giving him a pitying look now, and it was worse than the anger from a moment before. 

“Not like _this_. Jesus christ, there’s a difference between putting in a normal amount of work and _this_.”

“You’re deflecting,” he pointed out. “You really think it’s that hard not to flirt with someone?”

“ _Jesus fucking christ_ , I wasn’t flirting.” He gave a sharp shake of his head, trying to convince himself as well. “Look, I was having a good time. And you know what? I wasn’t really expecting to have a good time tonight. I was expecting to just be bitter and miserable all night, hating the fact that I’m not single but also not allowed to act like me and John are together. It’s fucking bullshit and it’s hard and I found a way to be distracted for a little while.” He turned around for a moment, craning his neck to try and get a view of the group he had been dragged away from. “And you know what else? I can’t really afford _not_ to build a friendship with the Schuylers. They’re all being very nice, and they _like me_. Fuck, Lafayette, they actually like me.” He sounded like he couldn’t quite believe it, even now. “They think I’m smart and witty and good company, and if word of all that gets back to their father that could really help me out.”

Lafayette gave him a sharp, skeptical look. “Until Eliza realizes you were flirting with her with no intention of following through, and they all report back to their father that you’re a disgraceful young man with no honor who doesn’t value his daughter’s feelings. How would that affect your budding relationship with Senator Schuyler?” 

“Eliza wouldn’t do that to me.”

“You met her several hours ago, Alex.” Lafayette was growing more and more tired of the conversation. “I wouldn’t be so quick to presume you know what any of them would or would not do.” 

He couldn’t deny that was true. But some irrational, instinctive part of his brain told him he could trust Eliza. She was so genuine, so open, so honest. The very energy emanating off of her just tugging others in closer so she could befriend them. He couldn’t see her acting so carelessly just to hurt him, even if he deserved it. In that moment he knew, even in the absence of the connection he hoped to gain with her father, he wasn’t willing to give up this newly forming friendship with her. She was _good_. The type of pure-heartedness that was a rare find, rarer still in a city filled with cynics, and maybe over time some of her goodness would wash off on him too. 

“You need to talk to John.” Lafayette tilted his head to the side, staring him down once again, and he felt a small stab of guilt that he hadn’t been thinking of him even seconds ago. “He’s struggling a lot right now, and even if you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, I think talking things through would help _both_ of you.”

“I want to go back and enjoy the rest of the night, not end up in some fucked up joke of a couples therapy session.”

“My party, my rules.” Lafayette leveled his gaze, trying to make the statement as serious as he intended it. “You will have plenty of time after you work out your problems to come be social and enjoy yourself, but you need to fix things first.” He straightened up again. “Please keep in mind that you’re ruining this night for me as well with your stubbornness. I can’t enjoy myself if I know John is in danger of doing something stupid. You should probably be more concerned about that than I am, by the way.”

Alex felt his face flush with shame and anger and broke his eye contact. “Sorry,” he said, addressing the first part and purposefully avoiding the second. “I know. It’s your birthday, and I shouldn’t be being this much of an ass.” 

Lafayette looked down at this watch again. “Oh.” He gave a short, humorless laugh. “It actually is my birthday now. Just after midnight.” 

“Shit, I guess I really do have to listen then.” 

  
  
  


A tentative knock came from the other side of the door, but John didn’t bother sitting up. Lafayette had locked it on his way out, still concerned about horny party guests most likely. They’d go away eventually. A second knock, a little louder this time. The noise was making his head swim, reminding him too much of where he was and everything that was happening on the other side of the door. He turned onto his side, grabbing one of Lafayette’s pillows and pressing it firmly to the other side of his head, trying to block out the sound as he covered his ears. It didn’t really work, but whoever it was didn’t knock again anyway. Distracted and with the noise in the room muffled now, it took him a minute to realize his phone was ringing in his pocket. He flopped over onto his back, letting the pillow fall to the side and holding the screen up to his face. He saw the missed call from Alex and registered what was happening right before the text came through. 

\--Alex: Hey let me in

\--Alex: Please

The second message followed directly after, tagged on like an afterthought. He considered ignoring him. It felt like too much effort to get up and unlock the door, and that would be nothing compared to the effort it would take to actually talk to Alex right now. But the fact that he had actually sought him out lit some morbid curiosity inside of him, so he hauled himself to his feet, still a little unsteady, but significantly better off than he had been when Lafayette first found him, and crossed the room. He turned the knob, hearing the quiet click as it unlocked, and stared at Alex on the other side, looking nervous and unsure. “Can I come in?”

John didn’t say anything, but nodded, his face as expressionless as he could manage, already feeling drained. He couldn’t let Alex see how much this was killing him. He stepped back towards the bed and sat down on the edge of it, watching as Alex quietly closed and locked the door behind him. He glanced around the room, restless eyes looking for somewhere else to sit and coming up empty. His gaze finally fell on the bed next to John, and he motioned to the spot a little helplessly. “Do you mind if I...?” 

He shrugged, scooching over a little to make more room, but a sharp burst of anger rose inside of him as well. Because Alex was being so damn _careful_ now. Like he was delicate and needed to be handled _just so_ or he’d fall apart. Where was any of that concern earlier? It was always one extreme or the other. Too much or not enough. It was exhausting. “Why are you here?” He asked as Alex settled on the bed a good foot and a half away from him. He considered a few different jabs to add onto that in his mind, but in the end he held his tongue, too numb even to attack. 

Now it was Alex’s turn to shrug as he stared down at his lap. “I don’t know. I miss you.” The words sounded vaguely familiar from the last time they had argued. A hollow déjà vu that only served to remind him of the rocky ground they had been standing on even before tonight. 

“Really? Didn’t seem like it.” He felt a sort of spiteful victory as he watched Alex cringe. 

“I did miss you,” he said with soft insistence. “Even though I guess that’s not really why I’m here. I’m here because Lafayette wants me to apologize.” He picked at the edge of his cuticle, adamantly avoiding John’s eyes. 

He waited a minute to see if that was some sort of segue, but when nothing followed he finally took the bait. “So, are you going to apologize?” 

“No.” He finally lifted his gaze now to meet John’s incredulous stare. “Sorry if that makes me a dick, but you misinterpreted things, and I’m not about to apologize for something that wasn’t wrong.” He was talking faster now, and John could tell regardless of how sure his actual words were, that he had been worried about saying all of this out loud. “Look John, I like you. I want to be with you. I’m not trying to fuck that up. Not on purpose. It’s just–” He paused, staring back down at his hands again, his brow furrowed now as he tried to come up with the right way to say what he wanted to say. “You know this is hard for me, right? I know we’ve talked and argued about it before, and we kind of came to a ceasefire, but that doesn’t mean that it stopped being hard. I’m not used to going to parties and not being all over someone else.” John raised his eyebrows, trying to picture Alex at some party, some nameless, faceless person on his arm. Going home with him. Try as he might, he couldn’t think about it for long without the nameless, faceless person turning into Eliza. “Maybe that’s a little fucked up,” Alex continued, oblivious to John’s parallel tangent of thought. “But I don’t know. It’s easier to flirt with someone at a party than it is to just… fuck I don’t know. It’s hard, John. If things were different and people knew that we were together, I think it’d be easier for me to just settle in with everything else, because at least if I were with you, people would look at me and see that I’m more than just some annoying asshole who doesn’t know when to shut up.” He huffed a sigh at the end, looking back up through his lashes, his eyes wide with nervous anticipation at how that would all be received, and John was struck with the fact that this was a rare moment of vulnerability for him. That slight moment of insight didn’t melt his heart as it should. Instead, it just heightened the dull self-loathing and panic that always seemed to be resting in the background of his mind. 

“Do you like her?”

“John…” He looked like he desperately didn’t want to answer that question.

“It’d be better, wouldn’t it?” He laughed, a delirious sound, and pressed on. “You wouldn’t have to hide anything, _and_ you’d be getting an easy in with the Schuyler family. It seems like the perfect opportunity.”

“John.” Alex bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut. “Can you stop?”

“And it’d be perfect for them too,” he barreled on, not caring that Alex’s face had gone pale with the words. “You could work on things for the Senator, join his staff, spend weekends and evenings at the Schuyler mansion. A perfect companion for a senator’s daughter. Talented and politically-minded, charming and young, intelligent enough to keep up with their inner circle. It’s almost like fate,” he noted, the word bitter on his tongue as his heart pounded, the sound deafening to his own ears. He swallowed down the sickening guilt as he studied Alex’s face. A combination of shocked pain, reflexive anger, and something more subtle. A reluctant acknowledgement of the truth of his words. 

“ _John. Fuck. Stop it._ ” He took his hand, quick and without permission, though John didn’t try to pull away. Even after that outburst, he still felt impossibly numb, and the feeling of Alex’s warm hand on his own barely even registered. “I’m not gonna leave you for someone else, okay?” He gave him a long, hard look, waiting, but receiving no response one way or the other. John didn’t know what he expected him to say. It’s not like he could easily agree with the sentiment. How was he supposed to know if that was true? “I’m serious, John, I’m not. I like how I feel when I’m with you, and I don’t want to give that up.” He hesitated, but then some whisper inside his mind seemed to urge him to continue. “You make me feel like I’m not alone in this world. Like there’s someone else who gets even a tiny bit of what my mind is constantly going through all the time. And in spite of that, you seem to like me anyway,” he added sheepishly with a short laugh. “I know I’m shit at showing it, but having you around has been good for me. Herc even noticed that I seemed different.” He gave a small smile, still not quite believing the change could possibly be that noticeable. “ _I like you_ , dumbass. Stop trying to convince me I don’t.”

John couldn’t speak. Not yet. Everything Alex had said was good. It was the _right_ thing to say. Damn, maybe he really was trying. And yet, John’s heart beat too fast, a chaotic staccato rhythm under his ribs because even if he had delivered the words perfectly it still didn’t feel like _enough_ , and he had no idea what enough _was_. He dropped forward, elbows on his knees and face in his hands, feeling drunk and entirely too sober all at once. 

“John?” Alex put one hand on his back tentatively, and he flinched but didn’t pull away. “Can you please talk to me?” His response was still a jumbled mess throbbing in his chest, so he shook his head, the movement making him feel sick, and he couldn’t quite tell if it was the booze or the anxiety in the pit of his stomach. 

“John, come on.” That familiar edge of frustration was creeping into Alex’s voice now, his short-lived patience wearing thin. “I’m trying, okay? I’m _really_ trying. I didn’t have to come looking for you, you know.” 

“Then feel free to fucking leave, Alex,” he snapped, the words bypassing his brain, straight from some icy part of his heart to his lips. 

Alex yanked his hand away, blinking in stunned silence a few times. “Alright, fine. Have fun with your pity party, asshole.” He got up, fuming, and stomped to the door. His shoulders were tense, and he didn’t turn back as he wrenched the door open, slamming it behind with just enough force that it would probably be noticeable over the music in the living room. John got up slowly, still in a fog fueled by his own desire to not be fully aware of what was going on, and locked the door once again. With the small reassurance that at least no random stranger, _or Alex_ , would walk in on him, he fell back onto the bed. Shoved his face into one of Lafayette’s pillows, filling his chest with as much air as he could, and yelled until his face was red and his lungs were tired, all of it muffled into nothing more than background noise. His throat felt raw when he finally turned back over, but he couldn’t seem to care as he stared up at the ceiling, trying and failing to replay everything that had happened. It was all just a blur of emotion and ice cold numbness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The longest party in the history of forever and it's not even close to being over yet 
> 
> Please yell at me in the comments <3 
> 
> Come yell on tumblr too @ilovefoodandgirls
> 
> Love you allllllll <3 <3 <3 Thanks for coming back for more of this mess lol


	26. Chapter 26

Despite everything, the party was still in full swing, the energy only increasing as the alcohol flowed and inhibitions slipped further away, topics of conversation growing more ridiculous, the music turned up a couple of levels, people playing beer pong and dancing, laughing at the slightest provocation. As Alex slipped back into the room, he made a conscious decision to shove any thought of his argument with John to the back of his mind. _Fuck him_. There was still time left to enjoy himself tonight, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else’s insecurities ruin that. He was halfway across the room when he nearly ran into Hercules, leaning up against a wall and talking with some guy in a very loud and colorful short-sleeved button down.

“Hey, where have you been?” Hercules studied him for a moment, a brief flicker of concern passing over his face. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” He did his best impression of a realistic smile, trying to force the energy from before back in his veins. “I want to do shots. Come do shots with me.” 

Hercules looked like he was about to argue, which probably would have been the better plan of action considering the almost manic look in Alex’s eyes, but the guy on Hercules’s other side grinned and spoke up. “I could go for shots.”

“Hell yeah,” Alex enthused, the smiling feeling more real now. “I’m Alex by the way.”

“Gouverneur,” he supplied with a slight nod of his head. 

Hercules still looked like he wanted to say something, so before he had the chance Alex grabbed his arm and started dragging him across the room. “Come _on_ , let’s go. It’s a party, we’ve gotta do shots.” 

“We did shots earlier,” he pointed out, following and resigned to his fate at this point, Gouverneur falling into step beside them. 

“That was forever ago. Shit, we should have done shots with Lafayette at midnight to celebrate.” He stopped talking for half a second as he considered. “We could find him now and do a round. Better late than never.”

“He’s got like a billion people to entertain tonight. He doesn’t need you pestering him.”

Alex frowned at that, glancing around the room to try and see where he had ended up. 

“I’ll let you know if I see him,” Gouverneur said with a laugh as they pulled up in front of the kitchen counter. 

“ _Thank you_ ,” he said, overly dramatic. “At least someone is supporting my desire to be a good friend.”

Hercules rolled his eyes. “I’m supporting you by trying to help you avoid making a fool of yourself. But by all means, go ahead if it’s that important to you.”

“Thanks for the permission, bud.” He felt almost calm as he grabbed a few of the small plastic shot glasses from the stack in the far corner and lined them up. He grabbed the spiced rum, spilling a little as he aimed the flow of the liquor into the tiny target of the shot glasses. 

“You’re a sloppy drunk, you know that?” Hercules complained, but there was fond exasperation in his voice. 

“You don’t know the half of it,” he said, some half-formed innuendo that didn’t quite land as the others stared blankly back at him. He was past the point of caring and picked up one of the shots, waiting as the others did the same. The rum felt smooth as water going down his throat, refreshing and vital when all he wanted was to put as much distance as possible between himself and his problems. He put the plastic shot glass back on the counter where others had already been discarded far earlier in the night. 

“There’s a trash can _right there_ ,” Hercules said, coughing a little as the burn from the rum settled, stacking all three of their cups, as well as the others on the counter, and disposing of them properly. 

“Sorry,” Alex said, not sounding like he meant it at all. “Let’s go back outside.” He glanced over at the door, and then back to the two of them, feeling uncomfortable with how _still_ everything was. 

“Yeah, I could use some fresh air,” Gouverneur agreed, grinning. 

Hercules was watching Alex suspiciously, trying to read this new mood swing, but he knew he couldn’t say anything with someone else around. More importantly, _Alex_ knew he wouldn’t ask about it with anyone else around, and he took full advantage of the opportunity to avoid any sort of heavier discussion. He took a deep breath of the night air as they stepped outside. The breeze hit his skin and blew strands of hair across his face as he stared out at the skyline, slightly blurry at this point, and it seemed to light electricity in his veins. Everything felt so real and so inconsequential at the same time, and all he wanted to do was drink in every ounce of it. 

Gouverneur had started drifting toward the edge of the patio to get a better look at the park below, so Alex followed, causing Hercules to trail after them as well, like a set of dominoes falling after one another. “Damn, this is nice,” Gouverneur commented, leaning on the railing and staring at the specks of people far below.

Alex squinted, but couldn’t quite make out anything that far down. _Fucking useless contacts._ He shifted his focus back up towards the sky, the moon bright enough to shine through the light pollution and giving off a halo of a glare around it. There were no stars visible. Not with the city lights dampening the entire sky to something not-quite-black. But that was fine. It was _good_ even. The sky here didn’t remind him of the sky back on St Croix. It was entirely different, a sign of how affected the city was by the millions of people within its borders, a constant reminder that there was energy and opportunity at every turn. He let out a soft breath of distracted laughter, momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer fact that he had made it here against all odds. 

“Alexander. We were wondering where you went off to.”

He turned, snatched away from his train of thought by Angelica. She stood next to him, staring at the sky as well, the breeze blowing a stray curl across her face. She looked nice in the moonlight, he thought idly, the glow reflecting off of her cheekbones and glimmering in the depths of her eyes. 

“Have you ever been upstate?” she asked him, her eyes still drawn upwards. 

He shook his head before realizing she couldn’t see the movement without turning to look at him. “No. Never gotten around to it.” He had never really wanted to honestly. Didn’t seem like the type of place to take a solo vacation, and he wasn’t really one for vacations to start with. 

“The sky is amazing up there. It feels like it just goes on endlessly. Every time you feel like you’ve stared as hard as you can, suddenly there’s another layer of depth to it.”

“Seems like a long and inconvenient trip just to go stargazing,” he said with a sarcastic edge and a small smile. 

“It’s nice. I’d rather be here in the city,” she admitted. “But it’s nice for a visit.” She considered him for a moment, finally turning her gaze back down to their level, but now Alex was staring up at the moon once again. “Where’s home for you? You didn’t grow up in the city.” It wasn’t a question, and in a different mood he may have been offended by how easily she made the assumption. 

“No, I didn’t.” He didn’t peel his eyes from the sky as he went on, worried even the tiniest glimpse of his past might show through some crack in his expression. Even the moon looked different in the city. Like there was a thin layer of smoke blocking it from the rest of the earth, distant and eerie. “I grew up in the Caribbean,” he said, keeping the details as vague as possible and continuing before she could try and offer some meaningless comment on how nice that must have been. “I worked my ass off to get out. It was stifling.”

A heavy pause followed before she turned her gaze away again, this time staring at some building on the other side of the park. “I can imagine.” Alex glanced over in surprise. He was anticipating some bland comment about the beaches or the ocean. Some insistence that it must not have been _that_ bad. “You seem like you’re made for bigger things than life in some island town, Alexander. I can’t imagine there were many opportunities for that mind of yours wherever you grew up, or you wouldn’t have wanted to leave so badly.” 

He closed his eyes, and when he breathed in, he could almost taste the sea in his lungs. He pushed himself away from the railing, vaguely noting that Goveurneur and Hercules were in the middle of some conversation again. “Yeah, I guess,” he allowed, not willing to let her know exactly how precisely she had hit the nail on the head.

“Would you like to come join my sisters and I again? I think we were planning on playing beer pong at some point and we need a fourth to have even teams.”

Now there was a bad idea. Then again, he had already made plenty of bad decisions tonight. What was one more?

  
  
  


“Who needs another drink?” Hercules asked from his spot at the edge of the fire pit. A few of the guests in their circle accepted the offer gratefully, and he pulled out his phone to jot down what they wanted in his notes app. “Alex. Come help me.”

Alex glanced up, annoyed, from where he was sitting on the ground between Peggy and Eliza, the seats all around them already filled by the time he had made his way over. “I’m good,” he said, leaning his head back so he could look at the sky. 

“Eliza? Peggy? Would you girls like anything?” Hercules asked, with a hint of insistence to his voice. 

“Please,” Peggy responded before anyone could say otherwise. “Just a beer is fine.”

Eliza glanced up at him, her brow furrowed. “Are you going to need help with that? It’s a lot of drinks.”

“No, between me and Alex, I think we can handle it.” 

Alex glared up at him, catching on to his game before he even finished the sentence. He groaned but pushed himself up to his feet, feeling the ground shift underneath him as the world subtly spun. Allowed himself to be led back towards the doors. When they were out of earshot, but still outside, Hercules finally asked the question that had been needling him for the last hour. “What the fuck happened after Lafayette pulled you away earlier?”

“Nothing,” Alex lied, all defensiveness and false aloofness. 

“Whatever the fuck is going on with you right now is not nothing,” he pointed out, giving him a sideways glance as he pulled the sliding door open. 

“Herc, I’m _fine_ ,” he said, and the excessive emphasis he placed on the last word did nothing to reassure his friend of that fact. 

“Mhmm,” he hummed sarcastically, glancing down at Alex as they made their way to the kitchen. “And where’s John?”

“How the fuck should I know?”

“Because he’s your–” Hercules caught himself just before it slipped. “The fuck are you doing? You seemed fine earlier. Great, actually. What the hell brought all of this on?” 

“Because he’s being a dick,” Alex said, the words slurring just a bit around the edges. “All I wanted was to have a good night. With or without him. It’s not my fault he chose the without option.”

Hercules gave him a long look. “You knew what you were getting into tonight. You can’t put all this blame on him. You agreed to it. You knew it was going to be like this.”

“Not really,” Alex responded, his tone turning sullen. “I don’t know. I thought–” He stopped, screwing up his face in concentration. “I don’t know. I didn’t think it’d be this fucking hard.”

“You should’ve.” He kept his gaze level, staring until Alex backed down a little bit. Then he sighed and started concocting the list of drinks he had on his phone. “I’m sorry you’re having a hard time,” he said as he poured liquor from one bottle into a few different cups. “But you’ve gotta figure this shit out before it blows up in your face. You like him, right?”

“Yeah,” he answered, sounding not quite sure. 

“ _Alex_.”

“Yes. I like him, okay?” He glanced around the room nervously, noting with a hint of bitterness that it was a habit he had picked up from John. 

“Good, then act like it.” He pushed the finished drinks to the side and grabbed a few more cups. “And for god’s sake you better help me with these or I’m never coming to a house party at your request ever again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, Herc is the MVP of this chapter for a) talking to Alex and b) making sure Lafayette gets some peace at his own birthday party by keeping Alex away from him 
> 
> Please continue to yell at me in the comments! I love it! 
> 
> Tumblr is still @ilovefoodandgirls and is also a great place for yelling


	27. Chapter 27

John could hear the party winding down through the walls of Lafayette’s room now. The roar of voices had lowered to a constant, but dull symphony now, steady with occasional bursts of energy that would swell and then fade back into background noise. He wondered absently if the Schuylers had left. If _Alex_ had left. Lafayette had come back at one point, but John hadn’t been in the mood to talk, so he left a glass of water on the nightstand and retreated once again, repeating his offer to let him know if he needed anything. The reassurance tasted like dirt in his mouth, gritty and wrong, and he wanted to spit it out as soon as Lafayette was out of sight again. 

He knew there’d be another knock on the door. After all, Lafayette would need his bed at some point. John had to leave at some point. He was sober enough that he could probably manage the walk back now. Thinking about going back to his apartment, how dark and lonely the space would feel, was not doing much to bolster his mood. He buried his face farther between two pillows, contemplating the night. Wondering if this was all _worth it_. His thoughts stuttered to a halt, and he realized he wasn’t even sure what he meant by _this_. Keeping the relationship private? Dating Alex in the first place? Moving to New York? Was _any_ of it even worth it? He thought, for perhaps the millionth time in his life, that it might be easier to take the path of least resistance and move back home. Do what he had to do to survive. It would be so much easier. Like sinking. 

Like drowning.

He resurfaced from his own spiraling thoughts at the abrasive sound of knuckles rapping on the other side of the door. He got up slowly, vague confusion clouding his mind because the party wasn’t quite over yet. Maybe Lafayette just wanted to check in on him again. He sighed, knowing that he owed it to him to allow the concern. But when he wrenched open the door, it was Alex’s eyes that greeted him on the other side. 

“Hey,” he said, the word muted by regret as he stood there, a little too tense, a little too restless. “Can I come in?”

John nodded, moving aside once again so he could follow him inside. Alex locked the door behind him before crossing to the bed and falling backward so he was gazing up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry I’m so shitty at this,” he said, no hint of his usual defensiveness in the words. Just honest and blunt. It felt a little bit like a truce, so John sat down next to him, hesitating for only a moment before dropping onto his back as well. They laid side by side now, the wrong way across the bed, both of their legs dangling towards the floor. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, John. It’s not the type of thing I can study for.” He sighed, his chest rising with the force of it. “God, it kills me. Not knowing what I’m doing. Did you know that in school I used to study every little detail of my textbooks? Take the most extensive notes and soak everything in, reciting back what I read so I could make sure it all stuck? I was fucking obsessive, John.”

“You still are,” he pointed out, finding his voice was finally coming to him. He had seen Alex’s process when he had an important project. Knew just how many notebooks he could fill with handwritten notes on every possible scenario or bit of evidence. Would sit and listen as Alex talked endlessly, knowing it was as much for his own benefit as it was to let John know what he was working on. He had known Alex was a perfectionist from the start, but seeing it in action was a whole other level. 

“Yeah,” he agreed with a wry smile. “But even like… flirting, going out on first dates, hitting on people. I could study that. You know, watching other people, or in movies or books. And I’ve had practice at it. I know what works and what doesn’t. I’ve been able to adjust my strategy when something fails. But this… I don’t know shit about this.” John watched as he squeezed his eyes shut, his arms still laying limply at his sides. He shook his head in tiny increments side to side. “There’s no blueprint here. No playbook. No guide. And I’ve never dated anyone long term. Maybe I’d be better at it if I had a chance to screw up a few times first. You know, practice rounds or something.” He shrugged, the movement shaking the mattress a little. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit tonight.” 

John’s throat still felt raw, his eyes still sore and tired, as he spoke while staring down the ceiling above them. “I know that. You did though.” He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, controlled. The only thing he had felt in control of the entire night. “I don’t like seeing you trying to get with half the people at the party. I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you,” he added, a tinge of desperation threading into his words now. “I know I haven’t exactly made things easy, but still, everything just seems perfect when we’re together, and I want that to be enough so badly.” He closed his eyes, vague images of the two of them curled up on his couch or in Alex’s bed prominent in his mind. 

“I wasn’t trying to get with half the people at the party,” Alex told him belatedly, and it occurred to John that he had been waiting for him to finish his thought before responding instead of just cutting in, controlling his usual tendencies. “Maybe I was flirting a little bit,” he admitted, pulling a face. “I am sorry for that. I wasn’t trying to do anything, but I guess I can see how it came off that way. I wasn’t going to follow through or anything. That’s just how people act at parties, John. You act like a bit of an ass, flirt with girls, you know, just dumb shit.”

John felt a sudden wave of profound disconnect as he listened to the words, Alex not even aware of the impact. He _did know_ that that’s what guys did at parties. At least, he knew that’s what they were supposed to do at parties. He was well aware of the expectations, the social scripts. He followed them to the letter back at home, in high school. He thought Alex knew better than to treat that as the default, but it seemed to have slipped through, between the alcohol and the exhaustion from a long night of fighting on and off. 

“I _don’t_ know, Alex. Not really,” he said, keeping his voice carefully neutral. 

“Shit,” he groaned, running a hand over his face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean… shit, sorry. That was a dumb thing to say.”

John shrugged, not wanting to fight about it. It seemed unimportant compared to everything else. 

“When did you know?” The question came out of the blue, and John’s brow furrowed as he held eye contact with the slightly uneven texture of the paint on the ceiling. “That you didn’t like girls?”

He thought back to his childhood, to school, to friends and early crushes. To movies and TV shows he had watched. To the actors he had stared at more closely on the screen. To Sundays at church and every time he had prayed for those thoughts to leave him be. To fade away into nothingness. He prayed that it was just a phase, as so many people claimed things like this were. He had prayed and prayed but it didn’t do a damn thing. The corner of his lip quirked up in a painful smile. “I don’t know. Middle school I guess. When everyone else started getting interested in girls and I just… didn’t. It’s not like I knew what it meant at the time,” he added, shrugging. “But I knew I wasn’t interested.”

“Huh.”

“What?” he asked, suddenly self conscious. It wasn’t something he talked about much. _Maybe ever_ , he considered, realizing he didn’t have a lot of people he could trust with that information. 

“Nothing, just, it makes sense.”

“Did you think it wouldn’t?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t have a good frame of reference for that I guess. I’ve never had that exact realization. There was no realizing I _wasn’t_ attracted to who everyone thought I should be attracted to.” He frowned, thinking. “It’s similar, but kind of the opposite. You know, realizing that I _was_ attracted to guys. Which obviously you did too at some point. But it was an ‘in addition to’ thing. Not an ‘instead of’ thing. It took me longer. Probably because I knew I liked girls, and I guess that’s how society told me I was supposed to feel. So there was no need to figure anything else out. But, yeah anyway, I didn’t realize until I was almost graduating high school. There was this one guy who worked at one of the beaches. A lifeguard,” he added with a self-deprecating eye roll. “Of course. And I had the biggest fucking crush on him. I’d go to that beach just to stare at him shirtless for a few hours.”

“You really were obsessive with everything, huh?” John said with a soft breath of laughter. After so many hours of nothing but unmalleable steel coming out of his lips, the laughter sounded strange to his ears. 

“Hey,” Alex said, shoving his shoulder lightly as the tension shifted over into something easier. “He was fucking hot, and I was seventeen. Yeah, I was obsessed. You would have been too if you’d have seen him.”

The laughter lining John’s face quickly faded as he remembered why they were in Lafayette’s room having this conversation in the first place, the reality of the situation crashing back down on him with sudden clarity. “I don’t want you flirting with anyone else, Alex.” The blunt seriousness with which he spoke the words rested heavy over both of them. 

He could hear Alex swallow hard next to him, the action shifting his neck and chest just slightly. “Okay,” he said slowly, his voice steady but slightly hesitant. “I think I can do that.”

“You think?” It was a fragile reassurance. The kind that could break as soon as he asserted that he hadn’t made a promise. Hadn’t been sure of whether he was capable of restraint. 

“It’ll be easier if I can avoid situations like this.” He was still staring up at the ceiling, his face tight with concentration. “If we’re not… public…” He said the word with a certain weight to it, cautious and overly thought out. “Then I’m gonna instinctively want to be on someone’s arm at things like this. It’s a pride thing.” he admitted with some trepidation. “I tried explaining that earlier but I’m pretty sure I did a shit job. If I’m with someone else, especially someone who’s _important_ , then people can’t look down on me as easily. I hate not being able to tell everyone that the hottest guy in the room is going home with me every night,” he admitted, laying on the flattery thick. “That would carry weight, John. People would look at me different if they knew you were into me. You’re smart, gorgeous, well-connected. The total package. And if you’re into _me_? That must mean that I’m bringing more to the table than they realize.”

“They might just think you have a big dick,” John teased, feeling his mood lighten, his heart beating quicker as the compliments and vulnerability mixed together. 

Alex burst into genuine laughter, turning over onto his side. “Yeah, maybe,” he allowed, still grinning. “That wouldn’t be too bad either though.”

Seized by the sudden need to feel Alex, to know that everything was _okay_ and that this was real and solid and viable, John rolled onto his side as well, leaning in and capturing his lips in a warm kiss. He tasted like rum and tequila and summer and sunshine. Like everything comfortable and everything that made his blood pulse too quickly. Like contradictions and unanswered questions. When he pulled away he felt a little dizzy, and Alex was staring with wide brown eyes into his face, taking up John’s entire existence in that moment. It felt like the kind of moment in the movies where the music swells, the rhythm turning into something grand and wonderful that reminded you of every good thing in your life. He pulled Alex into his arms, squeezing tight where his hands rested across his back. “You promise you won’t leave me for something easier?” His voice sounded small to his own ears. 

He heard Alex huff a quiet, nearly exasperated sigh. “I promise. Trust me, John. I don’t do well with easy.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by: communication
> 
> Leave some thoughts down below in the comments!
> 
> I'm on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	28. Chapter 28

When Alex and John eventually left Lafayette’s bedroom, the apartment was only half as full as it had been at the peak of the night. If John was concerned about the implications of the two of them reentering the rest of the party from a locked room down the hall after being suspiciously absent for a good portion of the night, he didn’t say anything. Alex was grateful for it. He had almost suspected John would ask him to leave first, or have him follow a few minutes after, and he knew he’d indulge the need to be as discreet as John wanted right now, he felt like he owed him that much, but he didn’t _want_ to move mountains just to be around him.

He had been walking backward down the hall so they could maintain eye contact, still talking as John followed him out, only tripping over his own feet a couple of times. When they got to the living room, he turned to glance around, picking out Lafayette and Hercules among the crowd. He motioned for John to follow as he joined Hercules on the sofa, squeezing in a little closer to make room next to him. He looked over his shoulder towards the kitchen where Lafayette was leaning against the island, speaking rapidfire French into the phone pressed to his ear. 

“Why is he on the phone at his own party?” he complained loudly as John sat down beside him. 

“I think it’s his girlfriend,” Hercules explained, looking over as well. “He’s been talking for a while now.” He glanced down at the time on his own phone. “Maybe twenty minutes?” 

“I think it’s nice,” Gouverneur said from the other side of Hercules, leaning forward a little to look at the others as he spoke. “Young love.”

Alex paused, listening more intently to the half of the conversation he could hear, then snorted with laughter. “They’re not having a very romantic conversation from the sound of it.”

He heard John laugh beside him as Gouverneur leaned farther forward. “Oh shit, you can understand him? Are they fighting? What’s going on?”

Alex grinned, listening again for a moment. 

“Stop eavesdropping, asshole,” John teased, bumping him lightly with his shoulder. 

“He’s having the conversation out in the open! It’s not eavesdropping!”

“It basically is.”

“Don’t spoil the fun,” Gouverneur said, laughing. “Oh, I don’t think we met yet.”

“That’s John,” Hercules said with a tilt of his head in his general direction. “And John, this is Gouverneur. He’s been keeping me entertained since Alex invited me here then ditched me half the night.” 

“Hey!” Alex was properly distracted from listening in on Lafayette’s argument now. “I wouldn’t have even–” He cut himself short. Couldn’t really explain that the _only reason_ he had left was because Hercules basically told him to go make things right with John. He sighed instead, leaning his head back against the couch and responding with exasperation. “You’re a grown adult, you can take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, more than you can.”

Alex squinted his eyes, glaring up at him. “I do _fine_.”

“You do better now than you did a few years ago. When you got here you didn’t even know how to read a subway map.”

“Do you think we have fucking subways on tiny islands in the Carribean? Asshole. Your life experiences are not universal.” 

Hercules laughed fondly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Do you guys not do laundry down there too? Because I distinctly remember showing you how to use the machines at the laundromat.”

“I had never used coin-op before,” he griped, leaning his head back again, this time resting it against Hercules’s arm rather than the couch back. “God, you’re an asshole.” He listened as Lafayette continued on in the background, a combination of singing his girlfriend’s praises and profusely apologizing. He smirked up at the ceiling, the slight pang of sympathy not enough to overpower his relief that at least he wasn’t the only one capable of screwing up his relationship a little bit. 

“She hasn’t forgiven him yet, from what I can tell,” he noted, turning to look at John. 

“No?” He glanced over his shoulder to watch as Lafayette paced over to the other end of the room. “It’s been weeks.”

“Wait, what did he do?” Hercules asked, removing his arm from where Alex had been reclining against him and leaning in a little to keep his voice low as he was inevitably dragged into their gossip. 

“He moved here, to America, without telling her,” John answered before Alex had the chance. “Without telling anyone, actually.”

“Shit, really?” Gouverneur asked, his eyes wide and leaning in closer as well now. 

“I’m surprised they stayed together,” Hercules added with a sideways glance over to where Lafayette was still going on. “I’d have dumped him the moment I found out if I were her.”

“Yeah,” John agreed. He yawned, a short, quiet sound that he quickly tried to muffle with his hand, and then rested his head lightly against Alex’s shoulder. 

Alex glanced down at him, surprised, and fought the urge to make a little sound of satisfaction at the gesture. Pretty much everyone from work had left, and maybe John was just tired enough that he wasn’t thinking about the possible repercussions of this tiny action, but Alex thought it felt like a sort of compromise and he was happy enough to accept it. It took a certain level of restraint not to put his arm around him, or lean down and kiss him, so he turned back to the others instead, trying to distract himself from the contact. 

“I mean,” Alex started, with a shrug of his free shoulder. “Can you really blame him?”

“Yes,” John answered sleepily. 

“Shush, it was a rhetorical question. I’m just saying, from what I understand, he really wanted to get away from home and no one would have let him. He was worried they all would have talked him down, and that he would have listened. At least he was self aware enough to know what he actually wanted, and to know the only way he was actually gonna do it was to jump first, ask questions later. You know, ask for forgiveness, not permission and all that.” John was probably too tired to really process any double meaning behind his words, but it still felt good to say them out loud. 

“That’s a great way to live if your goal is to piss a lot of people off,” Hercules commented, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand as he leaned back again. “He should have at least told his girlfriend.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he allowed, still not entirely convinced. If anyone had tried to convince _him_ to stay put when he left St. Croix, he would have been pissed. If it was someone he was dating, he probably would have broken up with them on the spot. There was a good reason he never got too tangled up in close relationships with other people back on the island after all. It was easier to cut ties if you only had a few, and easier still if they were weak ties to begin with. 

All of them glanced up as the French suddenly stopped, and Lafayette hung up the phone with a long, drawn out groan. 

“You okay, buddy?” Alex called out with slightly overdone sympathy. 

“No,” Lafayette answered as he joined the rest of them, noting that all the seats were taken and dropping to the floor instead, pulling his knees up to his chest. “She’s so _angry_ with me.”

“Don’t do dumb shit,” John mumbled, his eyes closed now. 

“Oh, wow, thank you.” Lafayette’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I hadn’t thought of that. You’re a genius, John Laurens.”

Alex couldn’t help the laughter that shook his shoulders, jostling John’s head a little bit. He made a soft, mildly irritated noise, but just readjusted, nuzzling his face against Alex’s sleeve in the process.

Alex felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and was grateful it was on the side of his body closer to Hercules so he wouldn’t have to bother John again as he shifted on the couch to better reach it. He grinned as he read the first message.

\--Lafayette: It looks like you two made up.

\--Lafayette: Also, your boyfriend has no right to give me unhelpful relationship advice, you’re both a mess. 

\--Lafayette: I would text him this but he looks like he’s about to fall asleep and also I don’t want to bring up how fragile you two are and bruise his ego. 

\--Lafayette: Pass the message along when he’s more awake.

Alex bit his lip to stop himself from laughing as he answered. 

\--Alex: not in a good mood I take it?

\--Lafayette: ...sigh

“What time is it?” Alex asked out loud, stifling a yawn himself now. 

“You _just_ had your phone out,” Hercules pointed out with a shake of his head, pulling out his own anyway. “It’s like two in the morning.”

He made a sound of acknowledgement and looked back down at John, who had actually seemed to have fallen asleep now. “Do you want people to head out soon?” He directed the question towards Lafayette who was typing a message to someone else on his phone now. 

“I don’t mind if people want to stay longer.” He shrugged, still distracted by the messages in front of him. 

Alex had been hoping for a “yes” so he could leave without feeling like they were ducking out early. He leaned back against the couch again, resigned to getting comfortable for a little while. “Oh, by the way, are you busy tomorrow?”

Lafayette looked up now in interest. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

He shrugged one shoulder again. “Might stop by at some point.” He closed his eyes as Lafayette responded, feeling the light, warmth of John’s breath against the skin of his arm. Some small voice in the back of his brain was telling him to stay awake. There was still a party going on after all. It was Lafayette’s birthday, and his friends were here. But he couldn’t quite hold onto the thought as relaxation slipped more completely inside of him, his awareness fading into something dreamlike until he finally fell into much needed sleep. 

  
  
When Lafayette finally shook Alex awake, the apartment had pretty much cleared. Only the four of them were left now, just as the night had started out. He sat up blearily, feeling completely disoriented as he tried to make sense of exactly where he was and what was happening. His head spun a little, a warning of the hangover to come undoubtedly. John still leaned against him, so he did his best not to wake him, shifting carefully until he could slip out and be sure he wouldn’t fall over. “Help us clean up a little bit,” Lafayette directed him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Hercules in the kitchen, tossing empty bottles and cups. He was a little surprised Lafayette didn’t wake John as well, but then again maybe he realized as much as Alex did that he probably needed the rest. The night seemed to have taken a lot out of him. 

As Alex got to his feet, he blinked his eyes a few times, feeling his contacts sticking awkwardly from the short period of sleep. He reached his hands up above his head, stretching his back and shoulders and feeling every sore spot where the couch hadn’t been kind to him. He couldn’t wait to get back in his own fucking bed. Or John’s bed more likely, considering how late it was and how much closer his apartment was. He looked down at John again, his cheek pressed into the soft material of the couch as his chest rose and fell with quiet, deep breaths. Felt a smile spread over his face, infinitely grateful they had found a way to maybe make things okay between the two of them before the night had ended. 

“Come on, Alex,” Hercules complained from the other side of the large, open space. It felt bigger now without party guests filling every tiny crevice. “You’re supposed to be _helping_ , not just standing there staring at your boyfriend like a lovesick idiot.” He paused for a second, eyeing Alex with suspicion. “Honestly, I’m a little surprised he’s not still mad at you. You were acting like an ass.”

“Don’t be a dick.” He was glad things had worked out, but couldn’t shake the slight defensiveness. Jesus, did _everyone_ have to be against him on this? 

“I’m just glad you both seem to be doing better,” Lafayette noted, attempting to pour a bowl of cheese puffs back into the bag they had come from and accidentally spilling a few across the counter. Alex picked up one of the strays as he joined him, popping it into his mouth. 

“Thanks. This is why you’re my favorite.”

“I fed you for months, gave you a place to live, and _this_ is how you repay me,” Hercules said with fake hurt, shaking his head. “So ungrateful.”

Alex just laughed, grabbing one of the bags from under the counter and helping to put the rest of the snacks away. 

  
  
  


John jumped when he blinked his eyes open, not expecting to see Alex’s face _right there_ in front of him. Alex grinned, and John glanced around the room quickly as his heart rate recovered from the initial shock, rubbing at the spot where his neck had been angled weirdly against the couch. Everyone else was gone. They were completely alone in the apartment, and Alex leaned forward, capturing his lips in a quick, soft kiss. “Hey,” he said quietly as he sat back on his knees again. “Are you feeling alright? Didn’t want to wake you before. You seemed like you could use the sleep.”

He nodded instinctively, then paused, actually taking stock of his body. He had a dull headache, echoing in the background of his brain, and he felt a little unsteady when he moved at all, but it definitely wasn’t the worst he had ever felt after a night of drinking. “Yeah, I’m alright.” He leaned back against the couch again, closing his eyes and remembering the night all over again. He could feel himself cringe as his brain replayed some of the worse details. “What about you?”

Alex made a face, pressing his cheek into the back of the couch a little more heavily and giving a pained laugh. “I’ve been better. A little nauseous, but I haven’t gotten sick, so that’s good I guess. I’m sure it’ll pass,” he added, sounding distinctly _unsure_. 

“You’re a lightweight,” John teased, reaching out a hand to grab one of his, tangling their fingers together. 

“Am not. Just had _a lot_ to drink.”

“Mmm, maybe you should learn to pace yourself a little bit.”

“Yeah, I’m not good at pacing myself, I’ll give you that.”

John smiled, noting that served a dual purpose of describing more than just his drinking habits. 

“We should head out soon. It’s late.” Alex gave his hand a quick squeeze.

“Where’s Lafayette?”

“Him and Herc went outside to talk without waking you. I stayed out with them for a little bit but, I don’t know, I wanted to come in here and be with you.”

“I was asleep, you sap.” He gave a wide, completely uninhibited smile, and Alex blushed a little at the mix of teasing and adoration.

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, not sure where he intended to go with that. “You want to go say bye before we head out?”

He nodded, slowly getting to his feet and noting with relief that the action didn’t trigger any worse signs of an oncoming hangover. Allowed Alex to grab his hand again when he stood as well. It was almost laughably simple after everything that had happened that night, but John couldn’t find it in himself to hold the grudge any longer. At least Alex _understood_ some part of what he was going through. What he had gone through in the past. While their lives had been so different in some ways, there were these experiences, these struggles, that lined up almost perfectly, inextricably linking them in a sort of bond that felt almost like fate. He couldn’t afford to lose that, and Alex was _trying_ , so he held his hand a little tighter, smiled, and pushed any refusals his mind tried to supply down as far as he was able. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE PARTY IS OVER!
> 
> Leave some thoughts for me! Comments are good! 
> 
> Over on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	29. Chapter 29

Despite his hangover, Alex still woke before John. He gave his peaceful, sleeping body a quick glance before getting out of bed, strangled relief tight in his chest. They were fine. He hadn’t completely fucked it up yet. 

He closed the door behind him as quietly as he could, blinking away the sunlight shining in through the floor to ceiling windows in the living room. His head spun but he steadied himself quickly enough then stumbled over to get started on coffee. 

By the time he finished the contents of his mug, reclining on John’s couch and scrolling through the news on his phone, he felt marginally better. Not _good_ by any means, but well enough to consider getting dressed properly. He ducked back into the bedroom, grabbing the duffle bag he had brought over a week or so ago with spare clothes, and pulled it into the connecting bathroom. He turned on the shower, still taking a moment to marvel at how fucking large it was and the way the shower head had ten different settings. The water felt good as it massaged his skin. Relaxed sore muscles and calmed his body enough so his headache faded into something dull. Background noise that blended in with his incessant thoughts until it was all just an irritating buzz. At least it was possible to mostly ignore now. When he got out, he searched through the contents of the bag, pulling on a pair of worn jeans. He realized he was on his last clean shirt, and noted he’d have to remember to bring more clothes over next time. Did up the buttons and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows one by one. He checked his appearance in the mirror. He didn’t look his best, dark circles under his eyes and his face slightly pale as his body still tried to fight it’s way back to a somewhat normal state after the previous night. But there wasn’t anything he could do for that now, so he toweled off and pulled back his hair and then quietly made his way back to the living room. 

He considered his options briefly, wondering if he’d be able to stare at his laptop long enough to get any substantial work done, but the air in the apartment felt suffocating and stale, too artificial, too dry, so he left a quick note on the counter and tugged on his shoes, grabbing John’s key where it hung by the door on his way out. 

When he stepped outside, there was a pleasant chill to the early morning air, cooling down the streets that had been overheated for far too long with car exhaust and the summer sun reflecting off of towering metal buildings, baking into the pavement. As Alex walked down the sidewalk he was once again reminded that this was the perfect time of year for the city. The sweltering heat finally abated to something livable, but winter was still a long ways off, plenty of time before the snow and ice came and the entire grid of the city turned into channels for vicious wind. This? Pleasant and mild with air that smelled more of the water from the river and less of heat-baked trash lining the sidewalks? This was perfect. 

He let his feet carry him towards the river now, only half paying attention as his mind ran with thoughts of last night and the upcoming week and getting Lafayette a gift and the speech and… _oh shit_. He suddenly remembered, with startling clarity, that Angelica Schuyler was starting at their office tomorrow. That wasn’t a bad thing in and of itself. He liked Angelica. She was smart as a whip and would definitely make a good addition to their team, but he knew the simple fact that she would be in the office with all of them offered ample opportunity for him to do or say something stupid that might shake things in his already fragile relationship. He chewed at the inside of his lip as he thought that one over. It would be fine, he told himself. He just had to be careful. To think before he opened his mouth for once. 

He walked past the park at the water’s edge, lined with trees and flowers, people out jogging and mothers pushing too large strollers along the sidewalk. He stared out across the river at the skyline in Jersey as he walked, the early morning sun glinting across the surface of the water and reflecting off of the buildings with an almost blinding glare. Maybe that was just the hangover though. He shielded his eyes with his hand before turning back to the path in front of him, breathing in the air and allowing his lungs to replace a bit of the toxicity from the night before with something cleaner. 

He made it to the pier, wandering down to the end and leaning against the railing so he could stare down at the water’s surface, watch as it lapped against the wooden posts holding him up. He wasn’t alone. It was hard to ever be truly alone in the city. But the other people out on the pier paid him no more mind than he paid them, and there was a certain comfort in the anonymity of it. He wondered if John ever came out here to think. It’d probably do him some good. 

By the time he made it back to John’s apartment, his head felt a little less like it was going to split open, and his feet were more steady. He almost felt back to normal as he opened the door to the apartment again. He started to take off his shoes, about to call out that he was back, when he noticed an unfamiliar voice with the distinct distortion that comes from a call on speakerphone. He snapped his eyes up to meet John’s own frantic gaze, and stopped the door from slamming behind, thankful his reflexes weren’t _too_ slowed down by his night of drinking. Even still, the sound of the door opening must have been loud enough, because he heard the voice on the other end of the call, which Alex now recognized must be a video call on John’s phone, thankfully facing the opposite direction where John was sitting on the couch, say suddenly, “What was that noise? Is someone there?”

“No,” John answered, and Alex could see the effort it was taking him to remain calm from across the room. “Just the neighbors.”

The other person, who Alex quickly realized was John’s father, continued on with their conversation after that. Alex hovered by the door, unsure as he quietly closed it behind him. _Should I go?_ he mouthed silently, pointing back at the door. John glanced at the screen and then back up, apparently deciding to take the risk to shake his head just the tiniest bit. 

Alex ran a hand over his face, any meditative peacefulness from his walk dissolving in an instant. He glanced at the coffee table. At his laptop still sitting where he left it, far too close to where John was now speaking with his dad to risk grabbing it. He sighed, bringing his other hand up to join the first, pressing the heels of his palms against his closed eyes. Fuck it. He walked as quietly as he could, the carpet muffling his footsteps as he approached. John’s shoulders tensed as he tried not to watch him too obviously, too aware of his father’s eyes on the other side of the screen as he continued on. Alex reached underneath the view of the camera, sliding his laptop out from it’s spot and finally, gratefully, moving out of the general proximity of John and his call. _Bye_ , he mouthed with a short wave as he headed into John’s room, quietly hopping onto the bed and opening up his work. Try as he might he couldn’t focus though. Not with the sound of John and his father on the other side of the wall. It felt almost degrading, to be hiding like this, pretending he didn’t exist, in a space that he normally occupied so easily.

He took out his phone, scrolling through pages mindlessly instead, his laptop screen still staring back at him in a guilt-inducing manner. But he paused when he heard another voice, younger, on the other end of the call, suddenly tuning his focus in on the specific words of the conversation. 

“Hey, Jack!”

“Jemmy! What’s up? How’s school?” His voice had changed instantaneously when his brother started speaking. From the overly-proper formality he used when speaking with his dad to something bright and cheerful.

“It’s fine.” His voice was muffled by the wall a little bit, but Alex still caught the slight grumble of unspoken complaint in the words. 

John laughed at the response, clearly more at ease than he had been moments before. “Don’t sound so happy about it.”

“Jack, you know middle school is the worst. And the new uniforms we have to wear are awful. It’s too hot for long sleeves right now, and they’re stiff and uncomfortable.”

Alex could practically hear the amused smile in John’s voice. “I’m sure you’ll survive another month until it gets cooler down there. Plenty of people would love to go to a school like that. Don’t take it for granted.” 

“Easy for _you_ to say. You’re done with it, _and_ your school wasn’t as intense as this one is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His tone was still light, but he managed to hold back any laughter this time. 

“All the kids from this school come from super important families, and they’re all so competitive and so good at everything. It’s just hard to keep up.”

“Hey, you’re a smart kid. You’ve never had a problem with your grades before. You’re going to be fine. And if you need any help, you know you can call me anytime.”

“Even if I’m up finishing homework at two in the morning?”

John laughed again, sounding a little caught off guard. “Even then, though I’d prefer to know that you’re getting sleep.”

“Oh, dad wants the phone back. I’ll talk to you later, Jack.”

“Yeah, talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

There was a slight break in the conversation, and Alex found mind spinning with that brief glimpse into John’s relationship with his brother. He didn’t know what he had been expecting. John didn’t talk about his family much, and most of the conversations they _had_ had about his family centered around his father and all of the various issues he brought with him. But the familiarity and genuine love he heard in John’s voice as he talked with his brother gave Alex the sense that they were closer than he had realized. He wondered how much else he still didn’t know. 

“Jack. Good, I wanted to make sure I spoke with you again before Jemmy hung up the call.” Henry’s voice again, too loud and too rigid with practiced politeness. “I meant to ask, have you registered for your LSAT yet?” 

Alex tilted his ear closer to the wall, suddenly intrigued. John hadn’t mentioned anything about that. “Yes. The deadline was the end of August, so I made sure to get it done a couple of weeks ago.” John’s voice was no longer filled with the warmth from moments ago, suddenly back to being a mirror of his father’s own. 

“Good. Did you need money for the registration fee?”

“No, everything is paid already, thank you though.”

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything else as far as applications go. Money for registration fees, reference letters, anything. You know I’m always here to help you with these things. Just let me know.”

“I know.” Brief, uncomfortable pause. “Thank you. I’ll make sure to reach out if I need anything.”

“Alright. Well, I’ve got to head out now. Both of the boys came home with a small list of things they need that were suspiciously absent from the school supply lists they sent out over the summer, so we have to make a quick trip to the store. We’ll talk soon though. I love you, Jack.”

“Yeah, love you too. Bye.” The call ended with a low pitched beep. John didn’t get up right away, and neither did Alex, the two of them frozen in thought on opposite sides of the apartment wall. 

Alex was still trying to process the new side of John he had heard and the information about law school applications. He wondered why he hadn’t told him about that. Alex was good with politics and law, and on top of that he was _great_ at applications. It was a useful skill set for getting yourself off tiny islands and into some of the best schools in the country on scholarships. He frowned, first with confused disappointment, and then suddenly with jealousy. Because even with his scholarships he had taken out loans to afford living expenses in the city while he attended school, and he was still paying those off. And even if he could manage to get a full scholarship to some law school, a herculean feat, he would still need the money to pay for living expenses. Hearing John talk about it so casually with his dad felt like someone throwing rocks directly at his heart. 

“Hey.” John was standing in the doorway now, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. “Sorry about that. He always calls on Sundays, but it’s normally later in the day when I have a chance to plan for it better.”

Alex waved the apology off. “It’s fine.” One thought kept grinding against his better instincts in his mind though.”It’d be easier if you just told them about us, you know.” He leaned back against the headboard, holding his gaze steady as John crossed the room to come sit next to him. “Then you wouldn’t have to lie or schedule your phone calls around my schedule or anything.”

“I’ve told you why I don’t want to be open about this,” he said wearily, but Alex just shook his head. 

“That’s not what I’m talking about. Just your family, John. Your dad already knows that you’re gay.” He watched as John flinched just slightly at the word. He tried to hide it clearly, but he didn’t quite manage it. “We don’t need to tell anyone else. But it’s weird that your family doesn’t know.”

“I don’t know, Alex,” he said slowly, staring down at his hands. 

“Why not?” He could feel himself growing frustrated. He could understand John’s concern about taking things public well enough. If it were up to him they’d tell everyone anyway, but he at least could respect the reasoning. But his dad knew. And _dammit_ as much as Alex didn’t like Senator Laurens, he didn’t like the idea of being completely shuttered away from John’s family even more. Hearing John talk to his little brother on the phone had just emphasized how important those connections were to him, and it _hurt_ that John didn’t want him mixed in with all of that. 

“It might not go over well with him.” John was still staring at his hands, his brow furrowed and his eyes not quite focused. 

“Well then, fuck him.” He sat up on the bed, coming onto his knees and grabbing one of John’s shoulders until he finally made eye contact. “You can’t control how he reacts, John. That’s as true now as it’ll ever be. You’ve just got to rip the bandaid off.”

He watched as John bit his lower lip, blinking a few times. “Is that really what you want?” He wanted to scream at the question. _Yes! Of course that he wanted! It’s what he’d been asking about for months._ “Once he knows, there’s no going back to how things are now, Alex. And I can’t tell you what he’s going to do, because I honestly don’t know.”

Some of his hardness melted at that, and he offered a small smile that he hoped looked reassuring. “Hey, it’s fine. I can handle whatever he throws at me, John. I’m pretty scrappy.” 

John’s lip twitched into half a smile at that. “Yeah that’s true.” He fell backwards onto the bed, rolling onto his side and propping himself up onto his elbow. “He should meet you in person, though. That’s better than just telling him over the phone or something. I’ll have to find out the next time he’ll be up this way.”

Alex perked up at that, turning his head sharply to meet his eyes. “Wait, really? You’re going to do this?”

John shrugged, still looking uncomfortable with the idea. “Sure. He has to find out at some point, right?” 

The words sent a rush of fluttering relief to Alex’s heart. That simple question held the promise of something that would last past this initial phase of secretive weekends and nights together, and it felt like the comfort of a roaring fire after being out in the middle of a blizzard. It felt like hope. “Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave thoughts in the comments please 
> 
> Come chat on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls
> 
> Love you guys <3 Thanks for reading


	30. Chapter 30

John walked closely next to Alex on the sidewalk, a cake from the bakery around the corner balanced carefully in his hands while Alex carried the card and a pack of birthday candles they had picked up.

“I feel like we should have gotten ‘sorry we ruined your party’ written on the cake.” 

John laughed, but it covered a fresh swell of guilt at how he had acted last night. Hoped Lafayette wasn’t too put off by everything as they made their way over to his place. “Yeah probably.”

“I wonder what the weirdest thing anyone’s had to write on a cake was,” Alex mused, tapping the card in its envelope against his thigh. 

“Probably something sexual.”

“Well, yeah, obviously. But what specifically?”

John shook his head, but searched his brain for an answer regardless. “Probably some combination of apology and something sexual.”

Alex laughed, delighted, and as he did he turned his head to the side, the sun bouncing off of his face. “Yeah, that’s good. Like, ‘sorry I couldn’t get it up last night’ or better yet ‘sorry I came before I could get my dick inside of you’. Something like that.”

John snorted at the overly analytical tone his voice had taken on as he talked about it. “I hope if anyone was told to write that on a cake, they just quit on the spot.”

“I’d do it.” Alex shrugged, grinning. “I’m sure it’d be a nice change of pace from writing ‘happy birthday’ and ‘congratulations’ over and over again. Plus, it’d be a _great_ story to tell at the end of the day. You think we could go back and ask them to draw a dick on it?”

John laughed again, and he would have shoved Alex if he had a free hand to do so. “No, you jerk. You’re not doing that.”

“We could pick up some icing, and I could do it myself.” He was clearly trying hard to suppress his own laughter as he went on. “Or you could do it. After all, I never took art classes like _some people_.”

“I don’t think drawing and painting translate well to cake decorating. Sorry.”

“Come on, John. Don’t be modest. I bet you could draw a real good icing penis.”

“Thanks,” he responded, thick with sarcasm. 

“Better than me at least.” Alex gave a shrug, a bright smile on his face. He had been in a good mood ever since that morning at John’s apartment. When John told him he’d tell his father about them. When John basically told him he’d _introduce_ the two of them. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but the more it sat with him, the more he overanalyzed all the possibilities for things to go wrong. The anxiety in the pit of his stomach relaxed its hold on him a little when he watched Alex smiling at him, excited and happy and beautiful in the midday sunlight. 

“We’re not drawing a dick on Lafayette’s cake.”

“You’re no fun,” Alex told him, but he was still grinning, laughter in the contours of his face. “It’s a good thing the weather’s starting to cool off a bit. I know it’s not _that_ far from the bakery, but I bet with how hot it gets in the middle of summer, it would melt the frosting or some bullshit like that. You’re making sure the cake doesn’t move around too much in there right?” he asked, eying the box.

John rolled his eyes. “Do _you_ want to carry it?” 

“Not particularly.” He shrugged. “It would just suck if we showed up and it was all smushed or something. Your hands are probably steadier than mine though, so no, I don’t want to carry it.” 

“Thanks I guess?” He looked down at the box the corners of his lips turned down a tiny bit, now overly conscious of every tiny movement he made. 

“I don’t want to go to work tomorrow.” 

John looked over at Alex, his eyebrows raised. “Really? That’s surprising.” He figured after a weekend with so many distractions Alex would be itching to get back to working on his speech. 

He looked almost guilty when John questioned him and tried to backtrack. “I mean, I just feel like yesterday was kind of a wash after everything that happened. I feel like I need another day.”

“You could call out tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’m not doing that.” 

He knew Alex would refuse before he said it, but he still had to smile at how _immediately_ he shut down the idea. “Are you going to be working on that speech right up until the deadline on Friday? I feel like with the amount of time you’ve put into it you should be done already.”

He watched as Alex glanced up at the sky, rubbing at one of his shoulders with his free hand. “Probably? It has to be perfect. You know that.”

“Everything you write is perfect, Alex.”

He rolled his eyes with a ghost of a laugh. “It’s not, and the only reason it seems like that is because I put this much effort into it. There’s a reason I don’t let people read my first drafts. I don’t want anyone seeing the cracks in my work.”

“Feedback is useful though.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll take feedback on my second or third draft.” 

  
  
  


They got to Lafayette’s apartment in the early afternoon, the elevator doors sliding open to reveal the remnants from the night before that they hadn’t managed to clean in their half-drunk-half-asleep stupor. Furniture was still arranged awkwardly to make more space, half full liquor bottles were lined up on the counter, a few stray pieces of snack food littered the kitchen island and floor, throw pillows were tossed half haphazardly in the wrong locations. John placed the cake box down on the island then stretched his arms, relieved to finally have use of his hands again. Alex dropped the candles and card down next to it. 

“Happy birthday!” Alex called out in the general direction of the hall leading to his bedroom. “You better come out here and say hi or I’m eating all this cake myself.”

John breathed a quiet sigh of laughter, lifting the lid on the box and taking the cake out to place it on the smooth surface of the island as Alex ripped open the pack of candles and got to work sticking them into the thick layer of chocolate frosting on top. 

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Lafayette’s voice called back from farther into the apartment, still a little clouded with sleep. “I just woke up.” 

Alex tsked, shaking his head. “It’s halfway through the day, and he’s _just_ waking up?”

“He had a busy day, Alex.” 

“I had a busy day too, and I still woke up at a normal hour.”

“You have an aversion to sleep. That’s different.”

Alex stuck the last candle in and then crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t have an _aversion_ to sleep. I’d just rather spend my time doing useful things.”

“So given the choice of sleeping or not sleeping, you’d rather not sleep?”

“Yes.”

“That sounds like an aversion to sleep.”

Alex rolled his eyes, leaning down against the island. “Whatever. It works for me.”

John made a noncommittal noise, not bothering to point out how irritable he got when he needed rest or how he’d always go back and check over his work the next day if he had been truly exhausted. 

Lafayette joined them a couple of minutes later, a pair of sweatpants and a soft t-shirt pulled on, his hair pulled up on top of his head. “Good morning,” he said as he made his way to the kitchen, his voice pitched low in almost a grumble.

“Good afternoon,” Alex corrected. “Here, catch.” He threw the card at Lafayette as he got closer, causing him to fumble for a moment, almost dropping it to the ground. 

He looked very confused for a split second before taking in the envelope in his hands. “Oh. Thank you!” 

“Happy birthday,” John added, grinning as he motioned to the cake. 

“We weren’t intending for this to be your breakfast, but if there’s any time when it’s okay to eat cake for breakfast it’s your birthday,” Alex said with a shrug and flash of a smile. 

Lafayette matched their expressions now, his face lighting up as his grogginess faded away. “This is so nice. Thank you both!” He fiddled with the envelope now, clumsily ripping the flap so he could get at the card inside. 

“Don’t mention it,” John said. Watched as he shifted the gift certificate inside to read over the words. “We were just saying on the way over that we should be apologizing for last night. Neither of us meant to screw up your party.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You didn’t ruin anything,” he said, contrary to the words he had spoken to Alex during the night. “Your fighting wasn’t _ideal_ of course, but it all worked out. I’ll just get you back and cause drama the next time one of you has a birthday.”

“Alright, well I’m never telling you my birthday. That solves that,” John told him.

“Alex’s birthday is in January,” Lafayette responded. “The eleventh I believe.”

“John’s is sooner,” Alex retorted without missing a beat. 

“Wow, you were really quick to throw me under the bus there.”

“Sorry.” Alex laughed, his eyes glinting with the playful teasing. “I’ll protect you from whatever bullshit he tries to start. Promise.”

“Anyway,” Lafayette said, decidedly changing the topic. “Thank you for the gift.”

“Oh, yeah,” Alex added in, suddenly remembering the contents of the card. “That’s so we can all plan a night and go get something to eat together. I know it’s not much, but–”

“I love it,” Lafayette said, cutting him off before he could try and downplay it. “Thank you both again. It’s very thoughtful.”

“You’re welcome,” John responded, smiling warmly. It felt good to have this sort of friendship in his life again. Something he hadn’t really had since he was a kid. 

“Now, about this cake.” Lafayette craned his neck to get a better look, eyeing the chocolate ganache artfully dripping down the sides. 

“Do you have a lighter?” Alex asked, looking back over his shoulder at the drawers and cabinets. 

“Second drawer to the left of the sink.”

After a quick search, Alex pulled it out, plucking one of the candles from the cake and using it to light all of the others, making a face every time the wax dripped on the frosted surface.“Wait are we going to sing to him?” he asked suddenly, turning to face John.

“You lit the candles, you _have_ to sing to me.” Lafayette gave the two of them a smug look as he sat down at one of the barstools along the far edge of the island, propping his elbows up on the surface. 

Alex sighed, but shrugged, making eye contact with John in silent question. John just smiled back, the look on his face enough confirmation that they were, in fact, doing this. He took a deep breath, a signal, and started singing, Alex joining in half a beat after. The tune clashed awkwardly between their voices, the way “happy birthday” _always_ does, and at the end of it Lafayette blew out the candles with one gusting breath of air. 

The simplicity felt nice, Alex standing next to him, the apartment just messed up enough to be a reminder that last night had been real, and for as many problems as that night had brought them, the fact remained that they had woken up this morning still by each other’s sides, still willing to keep moving forward. It felt _good_ to know that even when things got complicated, they didn’t have to _stay_ that way. As Lafayette closed his eyes to make a wish, John found himself doing the same. He had no right to a wish, it wasn’t _his_ birthday, but he hoped the universe would grant him this favor anyway. He wished, simply and wholeheartedly, for more of this. More time with Alex. More time with friends who cared enough to overstep their bounds a little bit. More uninhibited chances to freely express his own happiness. He closed his eyes tight, sending the wish off with as much hope and determination as he could muster. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: this weekend (like in the fic) is 12 chapters long from Friday-Sunday
> 
> Leave thoughts in the comments for me! I love reading all the amazingly nice things people have to say <3 
> 
> I'm on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	31. Chapter 31

Angelica Schuyler was a force to be reckoned with in the office. Fiercely intelligent and competent with the confidence to back it up, she took no qualms correcting the work of people who had been there far longer than herself. Try as he might, Alex couldn’t stay away from the magnetic pull she seemed to have on him. It was as if his soul and his mind recognized something in her so familiar that it was physically impossible to keep away. It was, however, much easier to maintain a certain level of distance in the professionalism that permeated the office. Busy as he was with his speech, he still couldn’t help but be pulled into discussions she had with others. Her mind was just too attuned with his own. 

“You need to think through the opposition’s side as well,” she told Will, a copy of his work pulled up on her own laptop for review. “Your points here are true enough, but you’re doing nothing to convince people who are on the fence. If you’re only convincing people who are already on your side of the debate, then you’ve essentially done nothing but waste your own time.” She scrolled down on the document a little and then highlighted a section. “This section here for example. Yes, of course we can say that disenfranchisement is wrong based on the fact that people who have paid a debt to society have earned their voting rights back, or because the justice system is already biased from the start, so preventing those with felony convictions from voting is furthering the systemic nature of that bias. But again, these arguments generally aren’t swaying the other side. What are _their_ arguments?”

Will seemed stuck, a little off guard perhaps, so after a long enough stretch that the silence was growing uncomfortable, Alex answered for him. “They’d say that anyone with a felony conviction has displayed an egregious lack of sound judgement, and therefore can’t be trusted with such a solemn responsibility as voting for our elected officials.” His hands still rested on his own keyboard, but he turned his head to the side as he spoke, making steady eye contact. 

Angelica smiled at the response, warmth mixing with that cool countenance so easily. “Yes, exactly. As well as the belief that harsher lifelong consequences are a better deterrent to high level crimes. Put more of your effort into dispelling those arguments and your overall stance will be much stronger.”

Will nodded, already focusing back in on his work, as Angelica took a step closer to the corner where Alex sat. “How’s the speech going?” she asked, her tone light, casual, in contrast to the instructive edge from a moment before. 

“It’s going fine.” He felt suddenly nervous with her standing behind him like that. The urge to close his screen so she couldn’t read over his shoulder was difficult to tamp down, and though he managed not to completely hide his work from view, he couldn’t help the way he angled his body just slightly so it’d be harder to see the words on the document. 

“Just fine?” He could hear the amusement, almost musical in its playfulness, in her voice. 

“Fantastic,” he added, allowing the sarcasm to seep in as he turned to look at her properly. “It’s work, and it’s not finished yet, what do you expect me to say?”

She didn’t answer the question, instead leaning back against the wall and giving him a searching look. “Do you want me to read it over for you? I have class after this, and I have to do some case reading, but I could probably find time to fit it in.”

His gut instinct was to say no. Hated admitting he needed help from other people on principle. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that getting _Angelica’s_ advice specifically could be beneficial. On top of the fact that she clearly understood the intricacies of politics, she _also_ had intimate knowledge of the client. She knew her father’s views better than almost anyone. Knew how the words Alex had written would either blend or clash with his style. Knew whether it was _good enough_ or whether it would fall flat. He swallowed his pride and nodded. “Sure, if it’s not too much trouble. I’ll send it over at the end of the day when I’ve gotten in some more edits.”

“Sounds good, Alexander.” She gave him another smile, looking satisfied with the response. “Send me a text later to remind me. Do you have my number?” He didn’t. Alex was positive she _knew_ he didn’t. When would he have gotten her number? But he shook his head anyway and passed over his phone when she held her hand out expectantly. She typed for a moment, entering in her contact info, before giving it back. “There. Remind me, alright?” she told him before turning to head back to her desk, curls bouncing with the movement as she walked away. Alex took a steadying breath, willed himself to focus as he honed back in on his screen. 

  
  
John watched the exchange between Alex and Angelica from his own desk, trying his best not to be too obvious about it. It was fine. They were just _talking_. There was nothing wrong with that. He repeated the words to himself, trying to convince his brain of their truth. The little, nagging self-doubt in the back of his mind wasn’t doing much to make him feel better, but as he watched over the top of his laptop, he couldn’t find any fault in Alex’s behavior. When Angelica walked back towards her own desk, John pulled out his phone, needing the reassurance. 

\--John: Want to get lunch? My treat :) 

He watched as Alex took a few seconds after the text went through before pulling his attention away from his work. He gave the message a longing look before responding. 

\--Alex: I can’t. Have too much work to do

\--Alex: Trust me I wish I could

John swallowed down the wave of petulant irritation those words caused. He knew Alex was busy. It was a long shot to suggest he take a break in the first place. John just _needed_ to talk. To hold his hand. To have a few private minutes. It was harder than he first thought it would be, keeping things so secretive when all he wanted was for everyone to know that beautiful, intelligent, _amazing_ man was his. For the first time, John let himself wonder what it would be like if everyone _did_ know. Not just his family, or their friends at work, but _everyone_. Conjured up the sensationalist headlines, the thought of photographers capturing the slightest touch or kiss or _look_ at some important event he was urged to attend with his family, other politicians scrutinizing his father’s reaction to his son’s choice in partner. As if the entire world had any _right_ to know. He took a deep breath, picturing Alex now instead. Alex, responding to the attention with a characteristic show of indifference while letting it go to his head a tiny bit. Alex, showing up on his arm to some fancy event looking damn handsome in a suit, poking fun at the ridiculousness of everything while simultaneously reveling in the novelty and luxury of it. Alex dealing with all of it, handling it in a way that John had never been able to figure out. Maybe it _wouldn’t_ be the worst thing in the world. He took a steadying breath. One thing at a time. Seeing how he handled his family’s reaction would be a good first step. A way to gauge how prepared he really was for everything else. 

Next year was an election year. The thought didn’t leave John’s mind often as he thought about all of the potential issues his own life and relationship would bring about. After all, it certainly would be on his _father’s_ mind. John had been honest with Alex when they discussed the potential of an introduction. He _didn’t_ know exactly how his father would react. But he did know that every word and action would be filtered through the lens of how it would affect his chances at reelection. After all, it was his livelihood. More than that it was a point of pride. A position of power where he could exercise influence and make tangible changes. Just because they weren’t all changes that John agreed with didn’t mean he couldn’t understand how important that position was to him. This job, the senate, it had been the one thing, the one goal, that had kept his father going when his mother passed away. That drive, the campaigning and work that went into it, had kept him functioning during a time that had taken its toll on their entire family. It had pulled him out of a moment of intense, overpowering despair and grief and given him purpose again. The whole campaign had felt like it was dedicated to her memory in a way, a promise that his father would keep going, keep moving forward, for all of them. 

John realized with sudden clarity that he had been spacing out, his work faded over to his screensaver as he stared at nothing in particular. He considered his laptop for a moment, then stood up instead. He needed a chance to stretch his legs. Clear his head. 

He made it out to the sidewalk without much conscious thought. Walked a few blocks north, his feet carrying him down familiar streets until he reached the entrance to Central Park. He stepped inside the stone entryway, passing statues and street vendors until the relative quiet was all that remained. He went a little ways into the park, not wanting the city noise to distract him, then sat on a bench, pulled out his phone. 

It rang twice before he heard someone pick up on the other end. 

“Father?”

“Jack? Is something wrong?” He could hear the tight concern in his tone, could picture the way his lips turned down into a frown. 

He swallowed, his throat feeling dry at the implication that something had to be wrong for him to be calling. On the other hand, it was the middle of the day on a Wednesday. With the strange timing of the call, maybe it was only natural to assume something had happened. “No, nothing’s wrong.” A beat passed as he tried to figure out the right wording. “I was just wondering, uh, if you’re planning to come back to New York anytime soon?”

He could practically see the crease in his forehead, the way his frown deepened. “I’d have to check my calendar. Is there a reason you’re asking?”

He fumbled, tripping over his words for a moment as he tried to come up with an excuse. He couldn’t tell him _why_. Not over the phone. “The law school applications,” he finally said, cringing to himself as the words left his mouth. He wasn’t really planning on sending those in, and now he’d have to look into them more and come up with questions if he wanted to make this whole scenario believable. It was that or let his father know he had lied, which didn’t seem like the most enticing option. “There are some things I wanted to go over with you, but it’d be so much easier in person. I figured if you were coming up at some point anyway, we could meet up and discuss it all.”

“Oh.” There was relief and pride in that one syllable, and given the situation, it didn’t comfort John like it should. “Of course, Jack. I’m glad you reached out.” John felt a contradictory burn of guilt at the words. “I do need to check my schedule. I’ll give my secretary a call once I hang up, and see what I can do, alright? Then I can message you the details.”

“Alright, that sounds good.” He paused, just briefly, and tried to inject genuine gratitude into the next words. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Jack. I’ll talk to you soon. Bye.”

“Bye,” he echoed as the line beeped to a halt on the other end. 

He took a deep breath, steadying himself on the wooden bench as people milled about on the grass and strolled down the paved pathways, not a care in the world. Not sparing a glance towards John as he tried to stop the universe from spinning out of place around him. He stood up slowly, surprised to find the ground was still solid under his feet, and started heading back towards the office. Just as he was crossing the street as he left the park, he felt his phone vibrate. 

\--Dad: I checked with my secretary. I don’t have anything in New York planned right now, but I have some free time on my calendar. I’d love to make the trip up and see you. How does next weekend sound?

Too soon. His brain nearly short circuited as he froze in his steps on the sidewalk, causing pedestrians to grumble obscenities as they bumped into him and stepped out of the way to continue down the street. He gathered enough of his mental faculties to at least move to the edge of the sidewalk, up against the nearest building, as he responded the only way he could. 

\--John: Sure, next weekend sounds good. Let me know when you have the details of the trip ironed out. Thanks again. 

He leaned heavily against the stone for a moment, unsure if his legs could support his body. Everything felt wobbly, like jello. He took a shaky breath. Then another. Thought back to earlier. How sure he had been that Alex was equipped to handle this. He leaned his head back against the building. Even if _Alex_ was ready to jump headfirst into this unfamiliar abyss, that didn’t mean _he_ was. Alex was right though. He had to rip the bandaid off at some point. Might as well be next weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the angst is back just a little bit! 
> 
> Leave comments down below please! 
> 
> Come hang out on tumblr too @ilovefoodandgirls


	32. Chapter 32

Alex got to work early Friday morning. Spent every possible minute throughout the day perfecting the document in front of him, making sure there was no possible area of weakness in the speech he had prepared, right up until the five o’clock deadline. He went over the list of notes Angelica had given him one final time, making sure everything had been taken into account, then stared at the screen hard, email already written and the file attached, before finally summoning his courage and clicking send. Perhaps he should have felt relief, but instead he just felt a twisting, tightening wrench of anxiety in his gut. It’d be a long weekend, waiting until Monday to hear of any feedback, and even then he couldn’t be sure he’d get a response right away. After all, it’s not as if Senator Schuyler didn’t have other, more important things to do with his morning. 

So, finally free of this latest project, he allowed John to pull him away from his laptop at the end of the day. Packed his bag and stood from his desk, noticing the stiffness in his limbs from a day with barely any time away from his work. He wondered briefly if he should get one of those balance ball chair things so his back wouldn’t feel so shitty at the end of the day, but quickly dismissed the thought, knowing he’d be far too concerned with people looking at him strangely. He told John to wait up a moment as he checked in with Washington, let him know everything was set and sent in, and that he had been CC'd on the email. 

“I’ll look it over tonight, but the last draft you sent me looked great. I’m assuming there were no major changes since then?”

“No, sir. Nothing substantial. Just fine tuning the details.”

He nodded approvingly, his hands moving from his keyboard to fold in his lap instead. Gave Alex a level look. “How do you feel about the project now that it’s done? Are you confident with the finished product?”

“Yes, sir,” he said without missing a beat. The corner of Washington’s lips twitched just barely at the enthusiasm. “I think Senator Schuyler will be pleased with it. I’ve looked up speeches he’s given before, public ones of course, the ones I actually have access to which are unfortunately not always the most interesting and don’t line up with the relevant topics as well, but–” He felt his cheeks heat up a bit as he realized he was rambling. “I think this is at least on par with other speeches he’s given. To be completely honest, it’s probably better. I put a lot of effort into the details, and the statistics and figures given are irrefutable, and the language is strong, persuasive. I think it’ll go over well.”

“Good. I’m sure Senator Schuyler will be pleased to see so much hard work went into it.” He gave Alex a long, considering look across the desk, and he did his best not to look away as the quiet attention grew uncomfortable. “Have you thought about what you’ll be doing after your internship is up, Hamilton? You’re about halfway through at this point, correct?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, the uncomfortable reminder that he _didn’t_ have a plan yet. Alex hated that fact. Not having every detail of his life planned out made his skin itch and his chest feel tight, and there had been _far_ too much that he hadn’t been able to plan for lately. He forced himself to give a smile before he answered, not wanting to seem ungrateful for the uncharacteristic interest Washington was taking right now. “I’ve thought about it a bit. I’ve looked into a few other positions in the city. I think staying here in a more permanent role would be ideal of course. I like the work, and I have a good handle on how things operate, but I know there aren’t many positions to go around.” As much as he thought he _deserved_ a real position working for Washington, he wasn’t going to come straight out and tell him that. As much as the man appreciated his ambition, he also valued humility to a far greater extent than Alex himself did. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. You never know what will open up in the span of six months, after all, and I think we would all benefit from having you around a little longer.”

Alex beamed at the praise, at the acknowledgement that he _wasn’t_ just another expendable intern. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”

“Of course.” Washington didn’t smile at him, he almost never smiled, but there was a warmth in his eyes that had almost the same effect. “I’ll let you get started with your weekend then. I’m sure you’ve earned a few days of rest. I’ll see you on Monday.”

He dipped his head in a short nod. “Have a good weekend, sir.” 

When he made his way back out to John, he couldn’t keep the smile from his face, and John smiled back at him, shouldering his bag. “Ready to go?” 

“Yep, I’m all set. Did you have anything in particular you wanted to do tonight?” he asked as they walked out the door, waited for the elevator. “Sorry, I know you haven’t seen much of me this week.”

John shrugged, but he didn’t look too bothered by the fact. “It’s fine. Did you want to come over my place? We could order takeout, watch a movie.”

“Netflix and chill?” Alex added, laughing just a little bit and lowering his voice into a clear innuendo.

John’s face flushed as the elevator doors opened and the two of them squeezed in with the rest of the end of day rush, and Alex grinned to himself, still amused by how easily embarrassed John could get. “But yeah, your place is fine.” As they sunk closer to the ground floor, a sudden thought hit him. “Oh shit, wait, change of plans.” John gave him a confused look, but he was too aware of the other people surrounding them to explain until the doors opened into the lobby and everyone began spilling out. He finally continued once they were out on the sidewalk, the only ones able to hear them other pedestrians who only caught brief glimpses of their conversation before they were out of earshot again. “I don’t have any clean clothes at your place. I need to at least stop by my apartment. Pretty sure I need to do laundry too, and I’m not in the mood to go to the laundromat tonight.”

“Why don’t you just do laundry at my place?” John asked as they neared the subway entrance, both of them slowing down so they could figure out their plans first. “Save you some money.”

“I’d have to lug all of those clothes over on the subway,” Alex pointed out. 

“You’d be bringing clothes over anyway.”

“I guess, yeah. I can at least wash the ones I’d keep at your place while I’m over there. So, my place first?”

“Fine with me.”

  
John followed Alex up the stairs to his apartment. It was too many floors but Alex hated waiting for the elevator, and John felt the familiar buzz of excitement and contentment knowing that they had all night, all weekend, to finally be alone together again. He had been patient, didn’t want to push Alex when he was so focused on the speech for work, but he had _missed_ him. 

Alex unlocked and opened the door, still talking about some article he had read on some conflict in some country. John only felt a little bit guilty that he had been tuning most of the words out. He just couldn’t focus. Not with the way Alex’s hair fell loose against his shoulders, and his eyes lit up when he got really into whatever he was saying, and the fact that he had basically been eye level with his ass for five flights of stairs. Alex made it halfway through the studio, glancing at his laundry hamper and asking John some question about how much clothing he should bring. He didn’t answer. 

“Come here,” he said instead, still standing by the door, near the kitchen. His voice was low, insistent, and Alex didn’t need to be told twice. Crossed the apartment until he was close enough for John to reach out, tug him closer, wrap hands around his waist and drag him in for a kiss. It was bruising, deep, filled with the pent up energy from a whole week of barely seeing one another. When John finally let him go, eased up a little on the vice grip he had around his middle, Alex pulled back slowly. Blinked up at him and panted as he tried to catch his breath. 

Once he had he regrouped his brain enough to think, he gave a small, breathless laugh. “Missed me that much, huh?” 

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He ducked down again for another kiss, less urgent this time, but just as passionate. Long and exploring, the two of them melting into one another. John ran his hands up Alex’s back, feeling the lean muscle underneath his shirt, allowed one hand to continue higher, into his hair, silky soft strands tangled in his fingers as he used the grip to keep him close again. Felt Alex respond to the gesture, make a soft, low noise into the kiss, press himself even tighter against the warmth of John’s body. 

Alex untangled his hands from where they rested, wrapped around John’s shoulders, and slid them lower down his arms, squeezing appreciatively at his biceps, feeling the soft skin there. Moved down to his chest, fingers grasping at the material of his shirt, digging into the hard muscle underneath. John held on tighter, wishing there was a wall behind him so he could really crush Alex as close as physically possible, but then suddenly Alex was pulling back. He couldn’t get far, not with John’s grip around him as insistent as it was, but he used the leverage of his hand on his chest to keep a short distance all the same. 

“Hey,” he said with a soft, blissed out smile on his face. “I have to get clothes, right? That was the plan.” 

John whined, holding him closer. “Screw the plan.”

Alex bit his lower lip, still keeping himself far enough away that John couldn’t drag him back in and distract him. “Tempting.” He smiled, tilting his face up, and John felt his heart skip a beat. “I worked through lunch though, and I’m starving. I’m fine if you want to stay here for the night, but we should order food.”

“After,” John insisted, leaning down to kiss at his neck instead. 

“No,” Alex said, laughing, a little giddy with the attention. “Now. Unless you want me passing out mid-fuck.”

“You’re not going to pass out,” he muttered, lips still brushing Alex’s skin. 

“Mmm,” he sighed, leaning into the contact. “You really want to test that theory out?” He didn’t wait for an answer before angling awkwardly in John’s arms so he could reach his phone. “What do you want for dinner?” He pulled away a little further so he could start scrolling through restaurant options on his phone, and John finally gave up his attempt at distracting him, but kept one hand still touching, tracing little circles into his side with one thumb underneath his shirt. 

“Whatever you want. After all, _you’re_ the one who just finished a big important project. You should be celebrating. I can cover the cost if you want.” He knew the answer to that before he spoke the words. Alex was too proud to accept John’s money, _his father’s money_ , without John explicitly asking him out and intending to pay up front. It was a recurring point of contention that he had mostly learned to accept. 

“No, no, I got it. I get cashback for food purchases on this card anyway, he said, motioning to the app he had set up to autopay. It was a recycled excuse, but John didn’t argue. He scrolled for another minute. “How about Chinese? Or there’s a place that sells Southern comfort food if you’re feeling homesick,” he teased, a little bit of a smirk on his face. 

“Chinese is fine,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Oh, that reminds me though. Are you busy next weekend?”

Alex gave him a confused look over his phone as he clicked through the menu. “Uh, no, don’t think so. Why? Are you planning a hot date or something?” He gave a flirtatious smile, and John winced, contrasting that idea with what he _actually_ had planned. Alex caught the change in his mood, and backtracked, his face growing a little more serious. “What is it?”

“You still want to meet my father?” He tried to keep the words light, but it took noticeable effort just to speak them aloud. 

Alex was silent for a moment, but the look in his eyes betrayed just the briefest flicker of doubt. He swallowed hard before answering. “Next weekend, huh?” 

And as much as John wanted Alex to be happy, there was something reassuring in knowing he was nervous about this as well. “We don’t have to,” he said quickly. “He doesn’t know anything yet, so there’s no harm in backing out if you’d rather wait.”

But as soon as the words left John’s mouth there was no turning back, because Alex _wouldn’t_ back down from a challenge, and that’s what John had unintentionally implied. Alex wouldn’t allow anyone or anything to get the better of him, no matter how much the thought of it scared him, and his face shifted now as he processed what had been said. He masked any trepidation at the thought of meeting John’s father with confidence, indifference. Gave him a smile, just to prove it was no big deal. “Of course I don’t want to put it off. Next weekend is fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by: pent up sexual energy 
> 
> Posted this on my tumblr, but heads up, I'm moving next weekend (yay!) and therefore will be a little more busy than usual with packing up everything I own into cardboard boxes! This may mean a slight delay in posting new chapters. They'll probably still be pretty frequent! At most an extra day or two in between is all I'm anticipating, but I didn't want anyone to worry or wonder why there was a change all of a sudden! <3 
> 
> Leave comments down below pretty please 
> 
> Come join me on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

The next morning Alex stuffed his only other duffle bag full of clothes that needed to be washed, grumbling the whole time about how far away John’s apartment was and how annoying it would be to lug it all on the subway. He dropped the complaints when John reminded him that _he_ was the one who lived way up on the northern tip of Manhattan. The subway car was at least mostly empty when they filed inside, middle of the day on a Saturday being far less busy than the commute hours during the week. Alex dropped the bag into an empty seat with a huff, sitting down in the next spot over and leaning his weight heavily to the side on top of his clothes for far too many stops. 

When they finally made it inside John’s apartment, Alex deposited the bag directly inside the door and made for the couch, flopping down on his back. “Shit’s too heavy,” he said as he heard John pouring himself a glass of water in the kitchen. 

“I would have carried it for you.”

Alex shrugged, belatedly realizing John wasn’t close enough to see the action. “I didn’t need you to,” he said, making sure his voice was loud enough to carry across the space, sounding just a little petulant to his own ears. 

“I know that.” He came back over now, placing the glass on a coaster and sitting down at the far end of the couch as Alex adjusted so he could fit. “I would have though, if you wanted me to.” 

“I didn’t.” He knew John was just trying to be polite, but the implication that he was too weak to carry his own things, no matter how unintentional, was bothering him more than he wanted to admit. “It doesn’t matter anyway, I got it here, didn’t I?”

“Are you mad about the thing with my father being so last minute?” John’s face was lined with concern now, and Alex closed his eyes, taking a deep breath where he laid back against the armrest. That _hadn’t_ been what he was irritated about, but the reminder was doing nothing to help his mood. 

“No, I told you, it’s fine. I want to meet him, John.” When he opened his eyes and glanced up, John was watching him with doubt written in his expression. “ _Really_ , I do.” It wasn’t a lie. He did want to meet him. He had no delusions they would click and become friends, that Alex would be welcomed as part of the family, but he _did_ want to meet him. If nothing else than to confirm his own suspicions about what type of man Senator Laurens really was. And even if he wasn’t necessarily eager for the introduction, he knew he could hold his own if anything less than kind was said. Alex was no stranger to insults, subtle or direct. “I’m not mad, alright? And I wasn’t even thinking about next weekend until you brought it up just now.”

“Alright.” The skepticism in his voice wasn’t helping. Alex closed his eyes again, willing himself to calm down. John was just worried. Worried about next weekend. Worried about _him_. 

He rolled over onto his side, then pushed up into a seated position. “I should get started on that laundry,” he said decidedly, very obviously purposeful in his desire to move on from the subject at hand. “You have detergent and everything, right? I didn’t think to pack any.”

“Yeah, of course. It’s all above the machine. Just make sure you read the labels, there’s one for white clothes and one for colors.”

Alex looked toward him with one brow raised. “John. It absolutely makes no fucking difference which laundry detergent you use on different types of clothes.”

“Yes, it does.” He stared at Alex in disbelief. “It definitely does. Why else would they make different kinds?” 

“To get suckers like you to pay more money for a bunch of different products. I bet you use fabric softener too.”

“Not _all_ the time,” he mumbled, looking embarrassed. “Anyway, do you want help? Because I don’t want you getting angry with me when you accidentally pour bleach in there and all your clothes come out discolored.”

“It’s laundry, John. I can handle it.” He crossed the room again, grabbing the handle of his bag and hoisting it with a quiet grunt. As he walked down the hall to John’s laundry room, thinking of the more expensive work clothes he had in that bag, he second guessed himself. “I’ll call for you if I need help with anything, alright?”

  
  
  


When Alex came back from loading the washer, he felt a little better. The short stretch of time to himself, just his own thoughts and the methodical process of the task in front of him, had helped to clear his head and calm down the nerves running underneath his skin. When he sat on the couch again, he was smiling, and John turned to him with a soft expression, warmth radiating from the curve of his lips and the depths of his eyes, and all Alex wanted to do was lean forward and drown in the sunshine he seemed to exude. They kissed for a long while, comfortable and passionate all at once in the midday light shining through the windows, reflecting off buildings and illuminating their skin, casting shadows and sunbeams, every shifting cloud causing the light to dance in new ways. Dancing across them like Alex’s tongue in John’s mouth, exploring, tasting, memorizing the contours of his lips, then his jaw, his neck. Kissing a sloppy trail across his skin. When Alex _finally_ reached his hand lower, snaking between the press of their bodies, John bucked up into his touch. 

“Mmm, Alex, yes,” he moaned, breathless in his ear as Alex ducked lower to suck a mark into his collarbone. He kissed one freckle, then another, tracing patterns across his skin with his eyes and his lips as he applied more pressure, rubbed him over his pants, feeling John grow hard under his attention. He was just about to lean back, focus on undoing John’s fly, when the timer for the washing machine went off. John whined at the noise, at the impending interruption, and Alex reluctantly withdrew his hand, untangled himself from John’s lap. 

“I’ll be right back,” he promised with a kiss, hurrying back to the laundry room and throwing the clothes into the drier haphazardly. His own erection pressed uncomfortably tight against the front of his jeans, and every movement was reminding him of that fact. He was still fiddling with the settings on the machine when he felt arms wrap around him from behind, lips, teeth gently nipping at his ear. Alex leaned back into him, low noise of pleasure reverberating through the small room as John’s hips pressed forward. 

“I was getting impatient,” he said in his ear, voice barely above a whisper, rough with building arousal. 

“I can see that.” Alex’s voice hitched mid-sentence as John brushed his hands lower, fingers dipping below the waist of his jeans and the elastic of his briefs, just barely. 

“You like that?” 

Alex felt his knees go weak, the smug smile evident in John’s tone, but the buzz of his own desire was too strong for him to care. He braced himself against the drier, leaning his weight against his own hands. “You really missed me this week, huh?” he countered, but his voice came in stuttering gasps as John popped the button on his fly, dragged down the zipper, slid a hand inside and cupped him insistently. 

“Yes,” he said, low and dark. “Missed you. Missed _this_.” He squeezed a little to hear Alex’s answering gasp. John ran his other hand lower over the front of his thigh then back up the inside, making his hips stutter at the contact. “God, Alex.” He leaned forward, kissing at his neck. “You have no idea what you do to me. Being so _close_ to you all day, but never being able to do anything about it. There were so many times I just wanted to drag you into some storage closet and suck you off right there at work.”

 _Fuck_ the thought of it, of John on his knees for him, having to choke down every moan, every praise, every single damn noise, knowing the possibility of getting caught, the adrenaline. He felt himself get closer to the edge, and John wasn’t even directly touching him yet. He breathed a broken off whine, trying to hold himself back from the build up as John’s hand continued to work him over his briefs. “Fuck, touch me,” he gasped, biting off a moan. 

“Like this?” He continued rubbing him, the fabric starting to get damp with precome. 

“John,” Alex pressed, a little more insistently this time, sinking down so his weight was on his forearms. He tilted his hips into the touch, desperate for more friction “Please touch me, fuck, I’ll do anything.” He was vaguely aware that he was slipping into begging now, but he didn’t care. Could barely hear himself over the inferno in his chest, the boiling pleasure building inside of him. “Please, goddammit John, I _need you_ to touch me.”

Without a word, John slipped his hand inside Alex’s briefs, and leaned down to bite at his neck again, his own cock pressed up against Alex’s ass. A few strokes, hand warm and tight around him, was all it took. He let his full body weight collapse against the drier as he came, his limbs going weak and his eyes fluttering shut, his whole body warm and bright, like flames, completely consuming him. He dropped his head to the surface of the drier as he drifted back down, panting heavily. “Fuck, John,” he sighed between breaths. He could still feel his erection, hard, pressing into the meat of his ass through layers of clothing, and the need to touch, to make him feel just as damn good, burned hot in his blood. 

John withdrew his hand slowly, carefully, making sure not to get the mess on anything else. As he moved to pull back though, Alex caught his wrist, pulling it up and sucking on each finger, working to clean off his own come from his hand. His eyelids fluttered closed as he focused on the act, listening for the reaction. John moaned, his voice hot and encouraging in Alex’s ear. “Oh my god, Alex.”

He turned a little, John’s finger still in his mouth as he wrapped his tongue around it, to look over his shoulder, blinking his eyes wide and almost innocent in response. Feeling a little more steady than he was a moment ago, he turned around, leaning his back against the machine instead and popping the last of John’s fingers out of his mouth. 

“Fuck, you’re hot,” John groaned, quiet and low, almost like a confession. Alex felt the corner of his lips turn up in a smirk, smug satisfaction bright inside of him, bolstering his confidence. 

“Wanna blow you,” he said, sinking down to his knees, running his hands over John’s thighs, still trapped beneath denim. “Want you to choke me on your cock.”

John swallowed hard, seemingly at a loss for words. Alex delighted in the reaction, still sated and glowing from his own orgasm, overly pleased with himself. “Please?” he said, tilting his head so he could look up at him through his lashes. 

John nodded, apparently not trusting himself to speak, but that was enough for Alex. He dove for his fly, getting John’s cock out in record time, playing up his appreciative moan as he peeled down his briefs, finally getting a look at him. John gave a little choked off noise as Alex ran his fingers lightly over his shaft, his hips moving forward, barely perceptible. He was clearly trying to hold back, and Alex was looking forward to destroying that semblance of control. 

He licked his lips, sighing indulgently before sinking down. When John swallowed yet another moan, Alex worked his tongue over him, suctioned his cheeks as he pulled back, and then sunk down again, taking him farther this time. Felt John’s hand come to his hair, threading in and holding him close near the nape of his neck, and he hummed in encouragement. 

“Alexander,” he whimpered at the feeling of the vibrations. God, his name sounded so _gorgeous_ coming out of those lips, uttered with such devotion and desperation. He breathed in deep then took John in further, feeling the insistent nudge at the back of his throat and suppressing any urge his body had to fight back against it. John’s fingers gripped a little tighter in his hair as Alex struggled against the way his throat was spasming, working around the cock wedged inside. He held himself there as long as he was able, then finally pulled back, still choking and gasping for air. “God, that feels good,” John praised, fingers still resting at the base of his skull. “Can I fuck your face?” he asked, and when Alex glanced up he could see the slight blush creeping into his cheeks, still embarrassed to ask for things like that, to speak the words aloud. Alex didn’t bother pulling off entirely, just nodded his head and breathed a moan of assent around his dick. 

John fucked into him almost gently at first, as if he was concerned about breaking him. After a few shallow thrusts though, his movements turned deeper, rougher, and Alex revelled in it. Delighted in the way his throat tensed with every press of John’s cock, the way his fingers held tighter now, keeping him trapped in place as he chased his own pleasure. The carelessness of it, the feeling of being used, the hint of pain, was distracting in all the best ways. Alex could tell when he was getting close, his voice rising with incoherent, half formed praises, his pace losing all sense of rhythm as he focused solely on the cresting pleasure. Alex couldn’t do anything but groan his encouragement around the thick length relentlessly shoving down his throat, but that was more than enough. Felt John spill onto the back of his tongue with a satisfied cry of pleasure, warmth flooding his mouth and forcing him to swallow as he had no place to go, hand still crushing his face close. He felt almost dizzy with the sudden stillness, the lack of air, and when John finally pulled back, his hand releasing its grip and falling to his side as he stumbled back and leaned heavily against the wall, Alex felt his head spin. 

He sat back on his heels and took a moment to catch his breath as John did the same. Blinked up at him, a wide grin on his face as he gasped for too much air, trying to refill his deprived lungs. Felt almost in awe at the rough use John had made of him, nearly entirely unprompted. “Thank you,” he said, clearing his throat when his voice came out raw. 

John laughed, surprised at the words. “Why are _you_ thanking _me_? Christ, Alex.” His chest was rising and falling shallowly, the effort from moments ago still taking its toll. 

“Cause it felt good. So fucking good.” He got up slowly, his legs feeling a little unsteady, and looked up at John. Still smiling, he tilted his head to the side. “What do you want to do now? We have the rest of the day.”

John closed his eyes, making a face as a sudden realization hit. “You forgot to start the drier, Alex.” 

“Shit.” He turned around and, sure enough, his wet clothes were just sitting there, the machine waiting for him to start it up. “You distracted me, asshole.” 

He could hear the smile in John’s voice as he wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed the side of his face. “I don’t regret a thing.”

  
  
  
“You know, this is my least favorite part about being an adult,” John said lightly, playfully almost, as he folded one of Alex’s shirts, trying his best to line up the seam at the bottom. The two of them were seated, cross legged on the rug in John’s living room, working through the freshly dried laundry, the clean smell of it permeating the room. 

Alex, now wearing a pair of John’s sweatpants after grumbling about how he had made a mess of his clothes _after_ he had already started his laundry, raised an eyebrow as he dug through the pile in front of him for the pair to the lone sock in his hand. “Really? _This_ is?” He knew it was a joke, but still, something about it was irritating him, elusive like smoke. 

“Folding laundry, yeah. That or doing dishes. It all just seems like it never ends.”

“Mmm,” he hummed noncommittally, adding another pair of pants to the stack in front of him. He kept moving his hands, one piece of dryer warmed clothing after another, and finally the reasoning hit him. “I guess I never really considered all that as like ‘adult things’,” he admitted, letting the inflection in his voice make the air quotes clear without actually acting it out. “I’ve been washing my own clothes since I was that tall.” He held out a hand with his fingers outstretched a few feet off the ground. He had vague, half-formed memories of helping his mother with chores like this when he was young. Then, later on, doing them on his own. Figuring out how to survive without help. 

John looked almost guilty, and Alex wanted to hit himself. He didn’t _mean_ to make him feel bad about it. Hell, most of the kids he went to Columbia with had never done laundry a day in their lives before showing up at school. But he couldn’t do anything about it now as John grimaced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off like that.”

“You’re fine, John.” He wondered briefly what _like that_ even meant. Honest? It’s not like it was John’s fault he grew up not having to worry about those little everyday realities. 

“So, what _is_ your least favorite thing then? You know, about being grown and living on your own and everything?” 

He paused, his face growing serious with concentration, a navy t-shirt still in his hands. “I don’t know. I don’t mind it honestly.”

John tilted his head, eyebrows raised. “That’s not what most people would say.”

Alex shrugged, forcing himself to continue working through the pile in front of him as he continued, hoping it would make the oncoming confession seem more casual. “Childhood wasn’t exactly fun for me, John. I had a lot of the same worries I have now: money, food, chores, fueling my own insatiable ambition. But back then I didn’t have the freedom to actually _do_ anything about it. I had to battle with the fact that I was poor and had all of these things I needed to do just to survive, and with the fact that I had absolutely zero control over who was supposed to be taking care of me or where I was living or what I was allowed to do. At least now, as an adult, I have control, you know? I have the freedom to actually go out and do the things I need to do without anyone else to get in my way. Becoming an adult was probably the best thing that ever happened to me. It allowed me to get off that island and travel here to New York. It kick started everything. Adulthood was the first _good_ chapter of my life.”

Alex had hoped the explanation would assuage John’s guilt, but instead he just seemed even more apologetic. “Shit, Alex. I didn’t realize… well.” He looked conflicted, unsure how to proceed. “I just didn’t know how much it sucked for you. As a kid. I’m sorry.”

Alex felt the heat rise to his face, embarrassed and irrationally angry at his reaction. The excessive guilt in John’s voice was doing nothing but reminding him how out of his place his experiences were, how little Alex’s own life fit into his worldview. “Fuck, John. Don’t be _sorry_. I don’t need your pity.” He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling slightly ridiculous with the gesture as he still sat on the floor amidst piles of clothes. “Look, it is what it is. Shit happens, and we move on from it, right?”

“Right,” John responded, still sounding unconvinced. 

Alex sighed and gave him a smile, hoping to reassure. “Come here,” he said, adjusting so he was propped on his knees now. John obeyed the request, crawling over to bridge the gap between them, and once he was close enough Alex leaned forward, drawing him into a slow, deep kiss. When he finally pulled away, John blinked through the haze, staring back with just a hint of confusion at the abrupt change in mood. “I’m serious, John. It’s fine. _I’m fine._ I don’t want to scare you off talking about that shit.”

“You’re not,” he responded quickly, a little bit of stubborn defiance. 

Alex gave him a lopsided grin, grateful for the sentiment even if he didn’t really believe him. “Seemed like I was a little bit. I get it. It’s a lot. There’s a reason I don’t really talk about it.”

“You can if you want to.” He wasn’t sure if the look on John’s face was invitation or pleading. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He gave him another smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, then focused back on his clothes, kicking himself for slipping up and getting so deeply personal over something as stupid as _laundry_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A whole chapter devoted to the boys doing laundry is what everybody wanted, right?
> 
> Leave some comments for me! I cherish all of them 
> 
> And come join me on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	34. Chapter 34

Alex showed up to work early on Monday, knowing he had to catch up on everything that had been put off for the last couple of weeks while he worked through the speech. Didn’t bother waking John when he slipped out of bed. Texted him when he was already on his way to the office to let him know he had left early. He hadn’t slept well, thoughts of _Henry fucking Laurens_ of all people keeping him awake. _Less than a week._ He heaved a sigh as he waited at the intersection, headphones in and some podcast rambling on in the background. He couldn’t focus on the words, but was too caught up in his own thoughts to pause it, so he let the audio continue. 

It wasn’t that he was _afraid_ of meeting John’s dad. He knew how to deal with assholes. It was more deep-seated concern than anything else. Because his _usual_ method of dealing with assholes was not conducive to any relationship that lasted longer than maybe fifteen minutes after the fact, and for whatever misgivings John had with his dad, he was still an important part of his life. That fact threw Alex off more than anything else, because regardless of family bonds, how could he maintain a relationship with someone like that? How did he reconcile his public image and values with any sort of love or affection? How could he live with his fucking voting record, knowing he’s supporting the side that would rather John stay in the closet like a dirty fucking secret his entire goddamn life?

He pulled out his laptop as soon as he sat down, the only one in the otherwise empty office. When he opened his email, he was surprised to see a new message at the top. _Senator Schuyler’s office._ He stared at the screen a moment, his heartbeat a little too fast, before stealing himself and opening it. 

He scanned the message quickly, key phrases jumping out at him. Blinked a few times as he processed the praise, the gratitude in the email, a swell of pride filling his own chest. And towards the end, _would love the chance to work with you again in the future_. The senator’s contact information was listed as well with an invitation to reach out. Promised he would pass on his overly generous words to Washington. Alex shook his head slowly, still in disbelief. It had been one thing to talk about how well-prepared he had been with Washington, to brag a little about how much effort he had put into the speech, how he knew it was good quality. It was another thing entirely to have that all validated by the person on the receiving end, especially when that person was a well known and respected politician. He filed the email away to respond when he was in a more clear state of mind.   
  


“Speech went over well, I hear?” Angelica leaned casually against the wall as Alex filled his third cup of coffee from the pot, waiting with her own mug in hand. 

“From what I can tell. 

“Don’t be so modest, Alexander.”

“Funny, I don’t get ‘modest’ often.”

She smirked, stepped forward as he finished up and poured herself a drink. “It’s not a bad thing to be confident in your own abilities.”

“Depends who you ask.” He took a careful sip from his mug. “But yeah, I _personally_ agree. So, did he, uh, mention anything to you then? About the speech?”

She flashed him a knowing smile, clearly waiting for the question. “He was very excited about it. Asked me to take a look so we could talk it over. I didn’t tell him I had already read it of course. Didn’t want to steal from your spotlight.”

“Thanks,” he said with genuine gratitude and relief. 

“Don’t mention it.” Angelica took a sip of her drink, the two of them just loitering by the kitchen counter now. “Really though, Alexander. You did a great job. Don’t be surprised if he starts bothering you to do other work for him.”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” he assured quickly, and Angelica shot him an amused look, her eyes sparkling as she read him easily. 

“No, I didn’t suppose you would.”

Alex took another sip of his coffee, the silence falling over him a little uncomfortably, though he couldn’t pick out _why_ exactly. “Well, I’ve got things to do. I should go back,” he said, motioning towards the area where all of their desks were. 

“Alright.” She paused, looking uncharacteristically hesitant as she considered him. “Would you like to get lunch at some point this week? I’m sure you have a lot to catch up on today, but maybe tomorrow or Wednesday?” She paused, then shook her head. “Actually, not tomorrow. I have an assignment due tomorrow night, and I’m going to be working through lunch on that. So, Wednesday?”

 _This was a potentially bad idea_ , Alex thought as he chewed at the inside of his cheek. The Schuyler sisters seemed to be a minefield for him, and it was still so soon after everything that had gone down at Lafayette’s party. However, it would probably be nice to have a distraction the closer he got to the weekend, and meeting Senator Laurens, so he nodded and gave her a close lipped smile. “Sure. Wednesday sounds good.”

  
  
  


Lafayette sat across from Alex and John as the three of them ate lunch, tucked into the back corner of the second floor dining area at some chain restaurant with tacky posters hung up on the walls. He set his sandwich on his paper plate and swallowed before speaking again. “Are you both free on Saturday? There’s a movie I wanted to go see, and there’s a club I’ve been meaning to check out as well. I thought it might be fun to go together.” He picked up one of his french fries as he waited for an answer, popping it in his mouth. 

“Oh, uh,” John hesitated, looking at Alex, then back at Lafayette. Alex squeezed his leg under the table, managing to keep his face more or less neutral as John attempted to find the words to answer. “My father’s coming up this weekend.”

“Oh, that’s alright. Alex?” Lafayette turned to him, and Alex made a face. 

“Um, I’m actually going to be busy with that as well.”

“With what?” Lafayette stared back blankly, and John cringed internally, knew Alex was likely doing the same. 

“With John’s dad visiting.”

Lafayette blinked a few times, his eyes going wide as his mouth fell open just barely, staring at the two of them in shocked silence. 

“Lafayette, stop that,” John said, suddenly self conscious. 

“What do you mean you’re going to be busy with his father visiting? Are the two of you meeting this weekend?”

Alex glanced up at the ceiling, maybe searching for patience ahead of the oncoming line of questioning. “Yeah. John’s introducing me this weekend while he’s in the city.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, breaking eye contact. 

“This sounds like a bad idea.”

“It’s not a bad idea, Lafayette,” John said with a bit of fire in his voice, surprising himself. He enjoyed the brief taste of boldness on his tongue and kept going. “Alex has to meet him at some point. He’s my father. And if Alex wants me to introduce him, then I’m going to introduce him.” 

Lafayette looked very much like he was holding back the urge to roll his eyes. When he spoke again, he went slow, as if trying to be one hundred percent certain they heard every word. “I understand you’re both trying to do the right thing, but he is like poison for your relationship. The last time he was in the city, Alex did not even interact with him, and you both blew up at each other. The longer he stays away, the better you both seem to be with one another, and now you’re _inviting_ him back to mess things up again?”

John felt irritation prick at him, and he was about to argue, the words already forming hot and reckless beneath his skin, but Alex spoke up before he could. “Can you just drop it? It’s not a big deal.” He took a sip of his drink, purposely avoiding looking either of them in the eye now. 

The look on Lafayette’s face was incredulous, but with visible effort he bit back his response. “Fine.” He shook his head to himself a bit, making a short displeased noise, but didn’t comment further. In the moment that followed, an awkward silence fell over the three of them. John glanced at Alex, surprised he didn’t have a backup topic to launch into, to change the subject, but he seemed distracted. Staring down at his plate of food without really focusing on anything in particular. 

He grabbed his hand under the table, squeezing gently. The action seemed to shake him out of his thoughts, and he smiled up at him, just briefly, before turning his gaze back across the table. “Did you want to go see that movie after work one day instead?” Alex asked, finally relieving some of the tension. 

“I figured you’d be too busy to go on a weekday.” Lafayette took another bite of his sandwich, sounding just a little petulant.

“It’s one night, I can make time. I’ll have you know, I’m not _completely_ single-minded. I can make time for other things when it suits me. John knows,” he said, smirk on his face now and slipping back into a lighter tone. “I make _plenty_ of time for him.”

John nearly choked on his food as Lafayette snorted a laugh across the table. He glanced around the room, but nobody was paying them any mind. Feeling his heart rate normalize again, he rolled his eyes, gave Alex a sigh. “Don’t sound so sure of that,” he said, his voice lower but still teasing, trying his best to sound like Alex’s joking around _didn’t_ just nearly give him a heart attack. After all, no one was listening to them. What did it matter? “I barely saw you at all last week.”

“Mmm but you saw _so much of me_ this weekend.”

John felt the heat rise to his face, but even with the embarrassment he couldn’t help thinking about all the intimate moments they had shared over the weekend, and he suddenly wished they weren’t in public as he fought his body’s natural urge to replicate those experiences.

“I’m trying to eat,” Lafayette complained. “Please stop attempting to seduce one another.”

It was Alex’s turn to laugh now, and John felt himself go a deeper shade of red. “We’re not,” he spluttered. When Lafayette didn’t respond to that, and Alex just continued to grin at him, he picked up his sandwich and finished it off, moodily chewing in silence as the embarrassment seeped in. 

“So,” Lafayette tried again. “How does Thursday night sound?”

“Thursday’s fine,” Alex answered for the both of them, squeezing John’s hand once again without wiping the cheeky grin from his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I'm alive! Lost power for a couple of days due to a tropical storm, but I'm back and more behind on packing my apartment than ever! 
> 
> Leave comments down below <3
> 
> Come hang on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	35. Chapter 35

The beginning of the week passed quickly. If Alex had thought finishing the speech for Senator Schuyler meant he’d have more free time, he was underestimating just how much Washington relied on him for various tasks he had either forgotten about or refused to assign to anyone else. He made a mental note that the next time he was given a big project, he’d be better off taking the time to just proactively redelegate everything himself. Since he _hadn’t_ had the forethought to do that this time, he was currently dealing with everything in which they had fallen behind. He wondered bitterly if Washington even _realized_ how much there was to do, but in the back of his mind he was secretly glad for the constant distraction of unending work. If the only time his brain was quiet enough to think over the possibilities of the coming weekend was at night before he fell asleep, well, he wouldn’t complain. 

The never ending to-do list meant that he almost forgot about his lunch plans with Angelica. Meant that he _did_ forget to tell John about those plans. They had both grown familiar with their routine of going out and grabbing food together, a brief getaway during the day where they could relax and drop their guard a tiny bit. So of course John texted him just fifteen minutes before he was supposed to leave asking if he wanted to get lunch. Alex fought the urge to curse out loud, subtle taste of guilt in the back of his throat. 

\-- Alex: Shit. Sorry I completely forgot to mention Angelica asked if I’d get lunch with her today

\-- Alex: I’ll see you after work though right? My place tonight?

\-- John: It’s fine Alex. And yeah we can go to your place. 

Alex looked up from his desk, trying to read John’s expression from where he sat. He couldn’t make out his face very well from this distance though. His brow furrowed in frustration, and he pulled out his planner, jotting a note to actually schedule an appointment for an eye exam. 

Angelica appeared at his desk five minutes later than they had agreed upon, but Alex was grateful for the extra time to finish responding to a few emails. “Hey, sorry I got caught up with a few things.” 

Alex could tell she was saying the words to be polite, not because she was actually sorry for the slight delay. He shrugged as he pressed send on one final email and closed his laptop. “Not a problem. So, did you have somewhere specific you wanted to go or…?” Pulled on the sweatshirt he had draped over the back of his chair, tugging the sleeves into place and bringing a hand up to make sure he hadn’t messed up his hair. 

“There’s this diner I’ve been meaning to try out. They have pretty much everything, I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I figured it’d be a good choice.” Her own jacket was cropped at the waist, and she tugged it on as they made their way to the elevators. Alex couldn’t help but notice the quality of the leather, dark and shiny contrasting against the lighter color of her shirt, and he had the distinct impression that jacket alone cost more than most of his wardrobe. 

  
  


The diner was warm, filled with a certain bright energy, a little kitschy. They were seated in one of the booths lining the wall along the back of the room, and Alex couldn’t shake the feeling that to any outside observer they’d look like they were on a date. He kept his hands firmly folded in his lap as the server came over to pour them glasses of water. “So,” he said, reaching for a safe topic. “How’s school?”

“Challenging.” She took a sip of her water, leaving a smudge of lipstick on the glass. 

Alex smirked, felt himself relax a little at the blunt simplicity of her answer. “For you? No way. I don’t believe it.”

She gave him a gracious smile, crossing her legs as she leaned back. “It’s hard work, no matter how smart you are.” She eyed her menu a moment before continuing. “Have you ever considered going?”

“To law school? Yeah.” He fidgeted in his seat a little bit, suddenly self conscious as he felt the need to explain himself. “Just, it’s expensive. I still want to go, someday, when I’m more financially secure.”

“It is expensive,” she agreed, watching him closely. “I bet you could get scholarships though. So many are based on personal essays, and I’m sure you could blow the other applicants out of the water with the way you write.” 

“I’m not getting enough in scholarships to cover the entire tuition, and on top of that there’s still books, housing. It’s just too much right now.” He stared resolutely down at the meal descriptions on the page in front of him, managing to read through a few options before she distracted him again. 

“It sucks that you have to put it off.”

He glanced up, bringing one elbow to the table and resting his chin in it. Shrugged his other shoulder. “Yeah. I mean…” he trailed off, not quite sure what else there was to say. “Yeah. It does.”

“You’re smarter than most of the people I go to school with. In a better world you’d be there in their place.”

He breathed a humorless laugh, feeling cynicism stab at his heart. “Yeah, well, we live in _this_ world, and I’m well aware it’s not a fair one.”

The server returned at that moment, cutting into the tension with a cheery greeting. When she left again, both of their orders put in and coffee requested, it was Alex who spoke first. 

“Look, it’s not like I’m not going to go. _I am_.” He felt like he was trying to convince himself more than Angelica. “Just probably not for another few years.”

She took another sip of her water, eyeing him over the rim of her glass. “I wasn’t doubting you, Alexander. And if you want, my dad could probably put you in contact with some people. References, someone who could help with the financial aspect, people who can just answer any questions you might have.”

“He doesn’t even know me. I’m not asking him to pull favors,” he shot back, crossing his arms over his chest and feeling a surge of inadequacy at the direction the conversation had taken. 

“He’s impressed by you,” she emphasized, her gaze steady. “He wants to properly meet you, actually. Asked if I knew much about you from work after he read your speech, and I told him we talk. He said you’re welcome to come over anytime.” She gave a faint smile. “It seemed more like he was asking me to arrange it than just extending the invitation to be honest.”

Alex felt his heart in his throat, beating too fast, making it hard to breathe. The thought of meeting Senator Schuyler was good, _fantastic really_ , but with his brain so preoccupied it mixed with thoughts of the coming weekend, meeting _another_ senator. John’s dad. The comparison between the two situations was too much in that moment, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “I have a boyfriend.”

He felt his face go red as Angelica’s eyebrows shot up impossibly high onto her forehead. After a moment of shocked silence she pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. “That’s not…” She grimaced. “That’s not what this is about. I’m not… _hitting on you_.” She shook her head slowly, bringing her hand back down to the table. “I have a boyfriend too, for what it’s worth.”

Alex ran a hand over his face before he spoke. He wanted to sink under the table, hide, disappear somewhere where his own embarrassment didn’t feel like it would swallow him whole. “Sorry, I’m just–” He cut himself off, unsure how to explain himself. Even if he could explain the complex series of thoughts and occurrences leading to that slip up, it would be impossible to describe without her knowing _who_ he was dating. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. Things are just weird right now.”

He went to take a sip of water, hoping the ice would cool down some of the heat in his face, but nearly choked at her next words. “Is it John?”

He took the minutes as he spluttered and gasped for air to consider his options. He could lie. Just because she had guessed correctly didn’t mean he was obligated to confirm her suspicions. But considering that was her first guess, she had said it for a _reason_ . And if he lied now, she’d be watching them more closely. It wouldn’t be hard to figure out. On top of that, he actually _wanted_ people to know. The secrecy was stifling. Angelica was smart enough to keep things quiet if he explained the reasoning properly. Having one more person to discuss things with seemed like a lifeline right now.

He took another sip of water, more carefully this time, to soothe his throat before responding. “Yes,” he said, looking across the table at her and holding eye contact, trying to read her expression but only finding calm consideration there. “How’d you know?”

She gave him a wry smile, looked like she was holding back a laugh. “You’re a lot of things, Alexander, but subtle is not one of them.” 

“Don’t tell him you know.” The words rushed from his lips as he came to terms with everything and finally considered the final consequence of Angelica knowing about the two of them. Alex could only imagine John’s panic at knowing how quickly she picked up on it. When he realized Lafayette knew, things had gone poorly enough, and _his_ father wasn’t a US senator. 

Angelica considered him another moment, sighed. “Alright,” she agreed slowly. “But do you mind telling me _why_?” She leaned back in her seat again, leveling her gaze, waiting. 

“No one else is supposed to know. His dad…” Alex trailed off, unsure how to explain that whole situation succinctly. 

“Wouldn’t approve?” 

He made a face, uncomfortable by the fact that he was pretty sure that was _true_ even if it wasn’t the exact reasoning. “It’s politics, Angelica. Do you really need me to explain why his son being in a relationship with another man would affect his political image?”

“ _That_ I understand perfectly,” she told him, her expression still steady, though there was a little more intensity burning in her eyes as she continued. “What I don’t understand is why you’re going along with it. Maybe I’m misreading, but it doesn’t seem like the type of situation you’d be happy with.”

She wasn’t misreading, but she was also overlooking one key component. “I’m happy with _him_.” He shrugged helplessly. “I don’t want to screw things up.” 

The server returned with the pot of coffee and two mugs, and Alex immediately distracted himself with pouring his own, trying to ignore the way Angelica was watching him. 

“But this isn’t what you want, is it? This whole secrecy thing?”

“Obviously not,” he snapped, letting his annoyance at the questioning cover up any of his lingering embarrassment. “I know it’s not ideal, okay?”

She shrugged delicate shoulders, seeming to get the hint and dropping it as she busied herself with the coffee as well. “How long has it been going on?” 

“Since July.”

“Before the party then?”

A brief flicker of guilt flashed over his face. “Yeah. I wasn’t trying to do anything skeevy,” he said, attempting to argue for himself before she could accuse him of anything. “I like you and your sisters. I was enjoying hanging out with the three of you, that’s all.”

“It’s fine,” she said carefully, her voice a little cooler now. “I understand. You should really be careful how you’re coming off though. It’s easy for people to take things the wrong way if they don’t know the whole story.”

“You just said you have a boyfriend too.” He slumped in his seat a little, feeling defensiveness seep through his posture. 

“I didn’t mean how you were acting with _me_.” 

Oh. _Eliza_. He tugged at the sleeve of his sweatshirt, unable to find the appropriate response for that one. He contented himself with avoiding eye contact and taking another long sip of his coffee. 

Angelica, gathering that silence was the only argument she’d be receiving to that particular point, gave him a deep sigh. “Look, can I just tell her about this? It will clear up any… _confusion_ you might have caused.” She stared him down through narrowed eyes and he distinctly felt like he was being scolded despite her generous wording thus far. 

Alex wished it was as easy as saying yes. “Telling you is bad enough. If John finds out this secret is being spread behind his back–”

She cut him off with raised brows and a certain level of subdued fire in her voice. “It’s _your own choice_ that this is happening behind his back. You’re being a hypocrite.”

He breathed a short, frustrated noise. “What if I tell Eliza? That way, I don’t know, at least it’s not being spread through multiple channels? Plus, I’d feel better to know that I’m in control of the narrative here, no offense.”

“I think you telling her yourself is honestly ideal, I just didn’t think you had the balls to do it.” There was a teasing glint in her eyes, much more reassuring than quiet intensity from a moment before. 

Still, he let the sarcasm fall thick into his tone. “Gee, thanks. Is there a good way I can reach her? I didn’t get any of your numbers at the party,” he added the last bit on as more a defense of his own actions than anything else, a subtle nod toward the fact that he _clearly_ had no ill intentions if he didn’t secure a way to stay in touch with them. Angelica caught on easily enough.

“Yes, and I assume that had more to do with your mysterious disappearance towards the end of the night than any lack of intent. Not that asking for someone’s phone number is any sort of proposition,” she adds dryly. “But yeah, I’ll send you her number. Her office isn’t too far from here, so you two can probably grab a meal or coffee or something if that would work. I know her favorite spots in the area if you need help picking a place.”

He gave her a small, genuine smile now. “That’d be nice. Thanks.” He took another sip of his drink, frowning as he realized he was already halfway done the cup. “I appreciate all of this, really. And, just, please promise me you won’t tell anyone else about me and John? I really need to know that I can trust your discretion here.”

She gave him an almost rueful smile. “Alexander, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there’s a certain code of honor among politicians’ children.” When he arched an eyebrow, clearly doubting the truth of her words considering all of the secrets that _did_ get leaked in the world of politics, she shrugged. “I’m not saying everyone adheres to it, but trust me, the gossip in DC is insidious and I’m not one to go around ruining the privilege of privacy for someone else.”

The sentiment was reassuring, but one bit snagged at his thoughts. “Privilege of privacy? Most people would say that’s more of a right, wouldn’t they?”

She hummed noncommittally, eyeing him with a bit of amusement. “Most people have never lived under public scrutiny. As much as I think you deserve a relationship where you don’t have to hide, I can also sympathize with John’s wariness to protect his own privacy. It can be hard to come by in the world we grew up in, and even harder to hold onto.”

With that last bit of wisdom imparted, their food arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to get this update out tonight because I'm moving tomorrow (yay!) and might not have internet at the new place for a couple of days (not yay). 
> 
> Please leave some thoughts down in the comments. It would be a wonderful thing to look forward to after a day of moving boxes and walking up and down a flight of stairs a million times :) 
> 
> As always, I'm over on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

The end of the week passed in a blur, the looming threat of Alex and his father finally meeting seeming to alter time itself to speed forward at a rapid pace. John could tell Alex was purposefully keeping himself busy, over scheduling and working through a laundry list of projects for work in any downtime he found himself with, staying as distracted from his own worries as humanly possible it seemed. And in the spare moments where not even work could keep his brain occupied, there was one last means of distraction. Now, Friday, one day before meeting John’s father, Alex was more keyed up than ever. 

The subway ride over from Alex’s apartment that morning had been filled with an endless string of topics ranging from global events, to work, to philosophizing on human morality, to _favorite colors of all things_. Basically anything besides discussing how worried Alex truly was about the next day. John did his best to stay present, contribute to the conversation, but his own mind was preoccupied with trying to plan out the best, safest way to handle this whole situation. Luckily, Alex could ramble on without any back and forth for a good while, so he nodded along, interjecting a few words here and there. 

Halfway through the day, John got a text. 

\-- Alex: Hey can you check the storage closet and see if theres any of those electronic wipes?

John glanced over at his desk, confused. Alex wasn’t there. 

\-- John: Why don’t you just… check yourself? 

\-- Alex: John can you just do it please???

His curiosity piqued, he got up, heading over to the hall that connected the work area and the kitchen, the storage closet inconspicuously situated halfway between them. Pulled the door open and stepped inside, squinting a bit in the low light filtering in from the hall before his eyes adjusted enough to notice _someone_ standing inside the closet, just out of view from the hall. 

“Close the door,” Alex whispered, hushed and insistent.

Still confused, a little flustered, John did as he was told, glancing up and down the hall to make sure no one had seen. “Alex, what the hell?”

“Shh.” He came up closer now, bridging the couple of steps between them and wrapping hands around his waist, leaning in to whisper by his ear. “No one ever comes in here during the day. Just the cleaning people, and they only show up after hours. I would know,” he added with a breathy laugh. “I’m here half the time when they do.”

John felt the color rising to his cheeks as Alex pressed close against him. Too close, considering where they were and the fact that the only thing separating them from disaster was an unlocked door. He kept his voice low when he responded. “What if someone needs something and they walk in?”

They won’t.” He sounded too sure. Smug. “This closet is normally locked. Concern over theft of company property, I guess. No one would think to come looking in here because no one thinks they can open the damn door.”

“Then how did _you_ get in?” he hissed, though the words were calming his heart rate a tiny bit. Alex’s logic was sound even if this was stupidly reckless.

“I asked for a key a while ago.” He shrugged, impossibly _more_ smug than a moment before. “Washington asks me to do stupid bullshit for him that’s not in my job description all the time, so I played into it. Told him it’d be useful for someone else to have a set of keys in case of emergency.” _A cleaning related emergency_ , John’s brain supplied with a bit of dry humor. Alex just smiled, seemingly aware of the absurdity of it, the smallest breath of laughter brushing against John’s neck. “I mentioned that, if I had a set of keys, then no one needed to bother _him_ if they needed this closet unlocked for any reason. He was happy to comply with the request after that argument. Hates people wasting his time.”

John swallowed around the dryness in his throat. The front of his slacks had gone a little tight with the way Alex was pressed up against him, the slight rush of adrenaline just at the _implication_ of what he intended to do. “Okay,” he said, voice barely audible and hitching a little as Alex pressed his hips more firmly forward. “But _why_ did you request a spare key?”

In the relative darkness, Alex’s smile looked downright devilish. “For _this_ of course.” He adjusted, putting just enough space between them that he could bring one hand forward, pressing insistently against John’s quickly hardening erection. He bit his lip to stifle the instinctive groan. “Can you stay quiet?” Alex asked, the lightness of his tone contrasting with the dark, hungry look in his eyes. “I don’t think there’s anything in here that would really work as a gag.” 

John was glad it was dark enough that Alex couldn’t tease him for how flushed that thought made him. Regardless, he knew _that_ was a bad idea, even as the heat pulsing through his veins begged for it a little bit. “You’re not gagging me. Not _here_.” 

Mischievous glint in his eyes, Alex leaned down to press a kiss to his collarbone, over his shirt. “Pity. Guess you’ll have to restrain yourself then.”

“Or,” John responded, his voice tight as Alex slowly worked him to full hardness over his pants. “You could stop trying to seduce me at work.”

Alex took his hand away and grinned when John couldn’t help the choked off whimper at the loss of contact. “Shhh,” he admonished, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. “Doesn’t seem like you really want me to stop.”

John paused, thinking through the fog in his brain. He was courting disaster here. If anyone found out there’d be no way to hide what was going on. On the other hand, he _wanted this_. Goddamn did he want this. The prospect of being caught, rather than sobering him as it probably should, sent a heady rush of arousal through his whole body. And he was already hard. And Alex was _right here_ , perfectly willing to fix that problem for him. So, in response to his teasing statement, John just shook his head a little desperately with Alex’s palm still pressed against his lips. 

Finally, Alex dropped his hand, bringing it down to rest against his chest as he leaned in again, biting lightly at his ear. “Thank god. You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do this all morning. Well,” he paused, laughing lightly as his own train of thought. “For months now really. Requested the key back in… end of July I think? Waiting for the right moment, and I couldn’t stop staring at you on the subway this morning, the way that shirt hugs your chest just right, the way your ass looks in those pants, the fact that I know exactly how fucking gorgeous every inch of your body is underneath those clothes. I’ve been thinking about you _all morning_.”

John closed his eyes against the words, trying to calm the effect they were having on him. Took a steadying breath and was too preoccupied to notice Alex dropping to his knees until he felt him nosing at his cock through the layers of clothing, his warm breath just barely noticeable against his thigh. His eyes shot open at the sensation, enough caution left in the farthest corner of his brain to hiss out a warning, to maybe attempt to call this off, but when Alex stared up at him, blinking through dark lashes, one finger pressed against his lips in a plea for quiet, his professional attire contrasting deliciously with the fact that he was down on his knees, eye level with his crotch, all John could do was throw his head back in surrender. He felt his eyes actually roll back in his head a little bit as the moment, the implications of it all, overtook him and a rush of expectant pleasure coursed through his body. 

With John doing everything in his power to remain silent, Alex undid the button on his fly and slowly pulled the zipper down, trying to ensure it wouldn’t make any loud noises, popped him out of his briefs. He ran the fingers of one hand lightly along his exposed cock, and John had to bite his fist to keep any noises at bay. Alex just smiled, continued, gripping him more firmly now and giving a few teasing strokes. Paused briefly as footsteps echoed in the hall outside, the click of heels. John felt his heart in his throat, the knowledge that someone was _right there_ outside the door, passing not more than a few feet away from them. And then just as quickly the footsteps fell away. And just as quickly Alex’s hand was gone, replaced by his mouth, giving John barely any warning to prepare himself as the moan came out muffled behind his knuckles. He would smack him if it didn’t feel so damn good. And if smacking him wouldn’t alert everyone in the nearby area to their presence. Settled for bringing a hand to his hair instead, tugging a little in desperation, a little in retaliation.

Felt the corners of Alex’s mouth twitch around his dick, the action just drawing his mouth tighter around him. John did a better job controlling his reaction this time and was rewarded by Alex’s tongue moving encouragingly along the underside of his shaft. 

He tightened his grip in Alex’s hair, tilting his hips towards him, trying to get as much of his cock as possible inside that amazing, warm heat. When Alex pulled back a little he had to bite down on his knuckle to stop the short noise of frustration. “Hey,” he said, voice still soft, quiet, barely raised enough so John could hear him, taking on an edge of blissful exertion now as he breathed a little more heavily. “You can’t… go that far. Gotta be quiet, remember?” _Oh._ It hit him suddenly with those words that, yeah, shoving his dick far enough down Alex’s throat that he choked was probably _not_ the smartest idea right now. He bit his lower lip, nodded silently and moved his hand lower to the nape of Alex’s neck, cupped the back of his head. Pulled him forward, still insistent but not trying to direct him. Allowing Alex to take control of the pace, trusting he knew his own limits. And once he let go of any control, Alex doubled down, wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, the part that won’t fit in his mouth, and sped up, bobbing his head up and down with more ferocity now. John was acutely aware that he was _trying_ to get him off at that point, and as much as he wanted this to last, he couldn’t slow the building coil of need in his gut. He twined fingers in Alex’s hair, still not guiding him, just grounding himself, and brought his other hand to brace against Alex’s shoulder. He could hear the soft, muted noises of other people going about their business in the office, and the thought _should_ have worried him, but instead he found it was the one thing that tipped him completely over the edge, biting so hard against his lower lip that he tasted blood in his mouth as he stifled and swallowed down every note of pleasure. 

Alex continued working him through the aftershocks of his orgasm, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head more slowly along his shaft now, swallowing every drop of come and then fucking _licking_ his cock clean. Once done, he tucked John back into his pants and did up his fly, wiping his own mouth with the back of his hand, but no amount of wiping at his face could hide the red flush in his cheeks, the way his lips were just a little swollen. He stood up slowly, surprisingly steady on his feet, careful not to knock into the mess of supplies surrounding them. 

John reached for him, trapped his face between his hands and pulled him in for a quick kiss. Felt his own cheeks flush as he pulled back just enough to whisper, “Do you want me to return the favor?” He knew they were skirting danger here. Every minute they lingered was a minute closer to discovery. 

He still wasn’t expecting it when Alex bit his lip and shook his head regretfully. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, the screen too bright in the dark space, and glanced at the time. “Fuck, I wish I could. I’m sitting in on a meeting in ten minutes.”

John stared back at him in shock. “You’re… what?” Even for Alex, this was a little reckless. 

“Well, nine minutes.”

“Jesus, Alex. You should…” He glanced at the door, hoping the hint got across as he failed to get the rest of the sentence out. 

“Yeah,” he said, still sounding distracted. “Yeah. Just– one second.” He pulled the hair tie from his wrist, carding his fingers through the strands to try and tame the worst of it and pulling it back into a slightly messy ponytail. “I’m going to clean up,” he said unnecessarily. John just nodded, still a little dumbstruck at everything that had just happened, followed by how abruptly it was _ending_. Alex smiled, soft and warm in the darkness of the storage closet, and leaned in for one last kiss. “Thank you,” he breathed by his ear before slipping out surreptitiously into the hall. It only struck John after he left that it was a little ridiculous that _Alex_ thanked _him_ . John hadn’t even _done_ anything. He shook his head to himself, helpless to parse out the way Alex’s mind worked and took just a few more minutes to compose himself before heading back to his own desk, doing his utmost to pretend he _hadn’t_ just gotten his dick sucked in a closet at work. For the rest of the day, every time he thought about it, every time he made eye contact with Alex, he felt his cheeks flush, couldn’t help the small, secretive smile that would spread on his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Office sex! 
> 
> Hi, yes, I'm behind on this fic right now. 
> 
> Will hopefully be catching up on my writing as I settle back into something resembling normalcy now that I'm kind of settled in my new place and have both WiFi and AC. But also I have physical therapy twice a week now, and it's early in the morning during the time that I normally get a lot of my writing done, so just know that's happening and that as much as I love all of you, I have other stuff going on <3 
> 
> As always, please leave comments!


	37. Chapter 37

“Do you have an ETA for your dad tomorrow?” Alex asked from where he sat on the couch, John’s head in his lap as they steadily worked their way through the second season of some mindless show on Netflix, one hand absentmindedly stroking John’s curls, the other typing out an email on his phone. 

“We’re meeting him for lunch at around twelve thirty. His plane gets in earlier, but he said he’d just get settled at the hotel until then.”

“Wait, he’s flying? It’s not that far of a drive.”

“It’s like four hours, Alex.”

“Okay, but you have to get to the airport, and then there’s security and everything and then just the _hassle_ of being on a plane and delays and all that bullshit, and then you have to get from the airport to wherever you’re actually going. Which isn't _easy_ in New York. You can’t tell me that’s honestly quicker.”

“I’m not sure if it’s quicker, but it’s more comfortable than being in a car for four hours in traffic.”

“More comfortable?" He quirked an eyebrow. "Planes are _not_ comfortable.”

“He, uh, flies first class, Alex.” John nuzzled his face a little more snugly into Alex’s lap, pressing a kiss to his thigh.

“Oh.” _Duh._ “I guess I forgot about that part. Still, that’s horrible for the planet. Emissions and all that.”

He felt John huff a laugh against his leg. “Don’t act like you’re some environmentalist all of a sudden, you don’t even use that water bottle I got you so you’d stop buying bottled water.”

“It’s inconvenient to have to carry it around with me, John. I just forget, okay?” He leaned his head back against the cushions, dropping the hand with his phone down onto the armrest. 

“Yeah, whatever, just don’t start attacking my father about carbon emissions over lunch, please.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” John craned his neck back to give him a skeptical look, and Alex breathed a quiet laugh, feeling a little tension sink out of his shoulders. “I _wouldn’t_. Not during our _first_ introduction at least.”

“Yeah, okay, now you sound more like yourself.”

Alex smiled down at him as he got comfortable in his lap again. “So, any advice for tomorrow?”

He could feel John’s breath against the leg of his sweatpants as he answered, could feel the sarcastic smile in his words without being able to properly see his face. “Think about your words before you open your mouth.”

“I always do that.”

John snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey, I think about them. Just because I choose to say them anyway doesn’t mean I don’t _think_ about them!”

“Alright, I guess the better advice would be if you have to even consider whether something would be okay to say, then don’t say it.”

“Hmm. Fine.” He ran his hand down to John’s upper arm, running his thumb back and forth over the smooth skin there. “I better get rewarded for my good behavior though.”

Another quiet breath of laughter against his thigh. "You’re the one who wanted to do this. I’m not making you do anything, just giving the advice you asked for. You’re free to stay home, you know.”

As much as Alex’s heart yearned to take the easy way out here, he doubled down. “No, I already told you, I’m not backing out. Wait,” he said as a sudden thought hit him, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes. “Did you tell him you invited me? Because if he made a reservation for two people we might be in trouble when we get to the restaurant and there are no large enough tables available to switch to.”

John didn’t answer right away, and the hesitation was all the confirmation Alex needed. “John,” he groaned. “You can’t just spring it on him like that. Just tell him your friend is tagging along or something.”

“It’s late. I can’t text him now.”

“It’s not that late.”

“It’s too late to text him, Alex.”

“It’s only ten o’clock.”

“I’ll text him in the morning, alright?” John rolled onto his back so he could see Alex's face, stare up at him with wide eyes in a plea for compliance. 

“Alright.”

  
  
  
  


If Alex had hoped for sleep, he was sorely disappointed. He laid in bed, John snuggled up against his side, his head resting against Alex’s shoulder, and stared at the ceiling, unable to will his brain to shut down for the night. He glanced at his phone on the nightstand, bitter at how out of reach it was, not wanting to move and wake John. He was pretty sure it was around two in the morning, but had no way of confirming.

Then, by some impossible stroke of luck, John stirred next to him, shifting and blinking his eyes open in the dark room. He made a soft, half-asleep noise of surprise when he noticed Alex with his eyes still open and squeezed his arm. “You're awake?”

Alex shrugged, grateful for the chance to finally move without worrying about jostling him. “You know me, couldn’t sleep.”

He breathed a sympathetic hum, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Anything I can do to help?”

“You got any prescription strength Nyquil or something?” 

“Is that even a thing?” Alex gave a quiet huff of a laugh at the question. “Also, you need to actually wake up in the morning, so that’s not a good idea.”

“So you _do_ have a stash of Nyquil somewhere then.” He glanced down at John, smirking, and planted a kiss on top of his head.

“Well I’m not telling you where it is _now_. I don’t want to encourage some unhealthy dependency.”

Alex rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. Like John had said, he needed to be awake in the morning and the last thing he needed was his mind all fogged up when he finally met Senator Laurens. 

After a moment, John curled in closer. “I’m awake now. Do you want to fool around, help tire you out?” His voice was still too weighed down by sleep to sound truly alluring, but the effort was endearing all the same. 

Alex bit his lip, briefly considering. “No.” Realizing how blunt that sounded, he gave a soft, nervous laugh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come out so harsh. Just… my mind is pretty preoccupied with your father right now, and it’s not exactly putting me in the mood.”

He could hear John’s muffled laughter where he was still pressed up against his side. “Yeah, okay, gross.” He paused, and Alex could picture the face he was making at the thought. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About having sex while thinking about your dad?”

John laughed again, shoving at his arm and rolling onto his back. “No. Please feel free to _never_ talk about that.” He sighed, shaking his head and still grinning. “Seriously though, we can talk about this if you want.”

Alex chewed at the inside of his cheek. Sure, the thought of meeting John’s dad was driving him a little bit crazy, but that didn’t mean he wanted to _talk_ about it. But, well, he couldn’t sleep anyway, and he was just tired enough that his inhibitions were lifting the tiniest bit. “I don’t want to fuck it up, John.”

Alex watched as he propped himself up on one elbow, searching expression, and he immediately regretted saying anything. Didn’t want John thinking he was having doubts. But John just leaned over, pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You won’t. He’s not as terrifying as you’re making him out to be.”

“John, you nearly had a panic attack over something he said the last time he was here,” Alex shot back, rolling his eyes. Couldn't help the nervous energy coursing through him at the thought of it. He wasn't worried for his own sake, and remembering how that one day had affected John so much sent a sharp pang through his heart. 

“Yeah, well.” John shrugged. “You’re stronger than me. You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

Alex wasn’t sure that was true. He sure as hell didn’t _feel_ strong right now. But the confidence in John’s voice, his assurance, was so comforting. Alex didn’t have the heart to correct him. “Yeah, alright.” He forced a smile, let John lean down for a kiss, then snuggle up against his side again. 

Long after John’s breathing had fallen back into a steady cadence, Alex remained awake, staring at the ceiling once again, hoping by some miracle that he could make it through the next day without falling asleep at the restaurant table. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short little chapter before the drama!
> 
> Leave thoughts in the comments please
> 
> I'm over on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	38. Chapter 38

John didn’t usually wake before Alex, so when he rolled over in the bed to find him still asleep, even as his alarm went off, he was a little shocked. He hurried to silence his phone and pulled himself out of bed, dragged his feet over to the adjoining bathroom to shower in preparation for the day. 

As the hot water ran over his shoulders, he thought through the upcoming meeting with his father for the thousandth time, feeling a pang of concern at how close the encounter actually was now. Only hours away. He distracted himself with thinking over the mundane details of the itinerary rather than the more anxiety-inducing notion of everything that could go wrong. 

_Lunch. Twelve thirty. Upper West Side. Amsterdam Ave. Twenty five minute walk. Plan to get there early. His father was always early._

He had already looked up the place. Knew to dress up a little, but not overdress. Had looked over the menu and picked out a meal so he wouldn’t have to think too much about food choices while he navigated the conversation. 

When he got out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, he felt another jab of concern to find Alex still asleep. Sat on the edge of the bed and put a gentle hand on his upper arm, shaking lightly. “Hey, Alex?” When that only resulted in a sleepy groan and him burrowing further under the blankets, John shook a little harder. “Come on, wake up. You’ve got to get ready.”

Alex groaned louder, but blinked his eyes open, squinting up at John. “Fuck, what time is it?”

“Ten.”

“Shit.” He shoved himself up into a seated position, rubbing hard at his eyes.

“I was worried you had died,” John teased, trying to ease up some of the tension he could already feel surfacing. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep that late.” 

“Yeah, well. I didn’t get to sleep until like five probably.” 

“Shit, Alex.”

Alex huffed an irritated sigh. “Yeah, I know.”

“You don’t have to come.” John looked him over, still only half awake and reaching for his phone on the nightstand. 

“Hey, don’t do that.” He glanced up at John now, voice sharp and phone forgotten as he dropped his hand back down. “I _told you_ I’m coming today. Stop trying to ditch me. I got a whole five hours of sleep, I’ll be fine.” 

John let out a quiet breath, reaching a hand behind him to rest it against Alex’s leg, still covered by the blanket. “I’m not trying to ditch you. Promise. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do this if you’re not up to it. You know I’m not going to judge you if you don't want to come, right?”

After a slightly frustrated huff, Alex scooted closer, swung his legs over the side of the bed to sit close to John. “I _am_ up to it. Look,” he said carefully, placing a hand on the side of John’s face and tilting it towards his own so they were eye to eye. “Your family is important to you, yeah?” John pressed his lips together and nodded. “Then this is important to me. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep me away from them, or keep them away from me, or whatever. I want to be a part of your life, John. _Really_ a part of it. Not just when we’re alone together, but when you call home and talk to your family. And at some point I want to be even more than that. Like, publicly a part of your life. I know you’re not ready for that yet, but you know… eventually. I–” He cut himself short, looking away towards the floor and taking a deep, strained breath. “If this is the first step towards that, then I want to do it.”

John felt his heartstrings pull at the words, both moved by the sentiment behind them and feeling the panic over what other people knowing might mean for them seeping back in. But still, Alex was trying so hard to do this. For him. For both of them. He leaned in, captured his lips in a soft kiss, brought his hand around to rest at his lower back, tugged him in closer. Wanted to keep him as close as humanly possible. To just forget this whole day and stay in bed, wrap him up in his arms and hold on tight. 

But all too soon, Alex was pulling away, straightening up, his voice soft, expression warm. “Hey, I’ve got to shower. We don’t have a ton of time, right?” 

He let out a quiet sigh, swallowing down the regret that they couldn’t just _stay_. “Yeah, right.” Gave Alex a small half smile as he got up and headed towards the bathroom. _Shit–_ it was going to be a long day. 

  
  
  


“So, what was wrong with what I was wearing again?” Alex asked as they walked over to the restaurant, frowning down at his khakis. 

“It was…” John paused, trying to think of the most delicate way to phrase what he wanted to say. “Too much? It’s a nice restaurant, but it’s also lunch, and their dress code isn’t that strict. I didn’t want you to feel overdressed.” He watched as Alex tugged at the cuff of his sleeve self-consciously. “You look good,” he added, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. “Very handsome.” 

Alex flashed him a grin. “Thanks. You’re not bad looking yourself.” When John dropped his hand a moment later, too aware of how close they were to the restaurant, of the fact that his father could be nearby, Alex didn’t complain, just continued on. “So, do you have, like, a plan?”

John took a deep breath in and released it slowly, fixing his eyes somewhere ahead of them. They probably should have gone over this earlier. Much earlier. But there was nothing for it now. “What do you mean exactly?”

He could have missed the quiet noise of frustration Alex made if he wasn’t paying such close attention. “Like… are you just going to walk in there and be like, ‘Hey Dad, this is the guy I’ve been fucking for a couple of months now’ or...?”

He brought one hand up to rub at his face, let out a long sigh. “I was planning on just… feeling out the conversation?”

“That’s an awful idea. No offense.” John looked over at him, slightly affronted. “How _were_ you going to introduce me then?”

He fumbled for a second. He honestly hadn’t thought it through. Which seemed pretty stupid now, in the moment, with Alex waiting for an answer. “As a friend?”

The face Alex pulled at that dragged up some lingering guilt. “And then halfway through lunch drop that bomb on him?”

“So what do _you_ think I should do then?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets, his eyes darting briefly to Alex’s face and then back ahead of them. 

“Not sure if I’m the best one to give you advice on this sort of thing considering I have no experience with family drama bullshit, but I think your best bet is to start off with the truth. After all, that’s the whole reason we’re doing this, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He chewed at the inside of his cheek, the impending conversation already riling his nerves. “Just, I don’t know. I’m worried if I go in with that right away there’s a chance he’s just going to get up and walk out. Maybe if I wait until we get food first he’d be more likely to hear me out due to practicality.”

Alex let out a sharp breath next to him. “Jesus Christ, John. Stop trying to do all these mental gymnastics on how to make it all work out.” He glanced over, taking in the way the muscles in his shoulders were tightening, the lines of his face hardening into something stubborn. “Just fucking tell him. If he’s that much of an asshole that he gets up and leaves, then that’s on him.” 

John glanced around, increasingly paranoid that his father was somewhere nearby. That he’d hear the blunt way Alex was speaking about all of this. But they were still relatively alone on the stretch of sidewalk. 

“I know, okay?” he said softly, noting the way Alex’s tone had been edging into anger. His father hadn’t even _done_ anything, and Alex was already on the defensive just talking about hypotheticals. “I know. I’ll introduce you properly as soon as we get there if you think that’s best.”

He watched as Alex let out a strained breath. “I _do_ think that’s best.”

“Alright then.” He swallowed hard. “That’s what we’ll do.”

Alex glanced up at him, suspicion poorly concealed in his eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, Alex. I trust your judgement.” He shrugged, pulled his phone out of his pocket to double check he didn’t have any missed calls from his father. “I’m trying my best to make this work, alright? And I appreciate that you’re willing to put up with all of it for me. I know it’s not exactly easy, and I know he’ll never be your favorite person, but I can see that you’re trying, and I really, really do appreciate it.”

Alex didn’t respond to that directly, but his answering smile was warm, subtle, held the responding gratitude that he didn’t speak out loud. “So,” he asked instead. “Just how fancy is this place?” He sidestepped a tourist walking down the wrong side of the sidewalk and then continued. “Like, what percentage of my paycheck is this meal going to cost?” 

“You don’t need to worry about that. He’s going to cover the meal, Alex.”

John watched as Alex made an uncomfortable face at that. “Still. I’d like to know so I’m not blindsided when I see the prices on the menu.”

“It’s four dollar signs on Google.”

“Shit.”

“It’s not like he was going to take us to Chipotle.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “I _know that_. Wait. Did you even text him and tell him there was a third person coming?”

 _Shit._ John bit his lower lip and didn’t answer. 

“ _John._ ”

He cringed at the stinging judgement in his tone. “I’m sorry! I forgot. I’ve been so stressed about everything, it slipped my mind.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, trying not to meet Alex’s eyes. 

“Great, now I’m the dirty family secret, _and_ I’m messing up the reservation.” 

John couldn’t tell by the tone if that was supposed to be a joke or not. 

“Look,” Alex said with a hint of frustration. “Do you want to just text or call him now? Let him know so he’s not completely taken by surprise?”

The sigh that slipped past his lips was pained, resigned. “We’re just about there anyway. It’s not going to make much of a difference at this point.” He looked at Alex, taking in how much his posture had tensed up in the last few minutes. “It’ll be fine. Places like this are usually pretty accommodating. Especially if they think they can get a better tip out of it.”

“He better tip well with all that money,” Alex grumbled. 

John’s lip twitched, glad Alex was at least back to critiquing the image of his father that he harbored rather than critiquing John and his mistakes. They walked in silence a few more minutes, and he counted the blocks with each intersection, anticipation increasing with every street sign until they were only about a minute away. John paused on the sidewalk, grabbed Alex’s hand and tugged him to the side, closer to the building. 

Alex gave him a searching look, his brow furrowed. “What–?”

“We’re almost there. I just wanted to make sure… are you okay with this? Really?” His heart was beating faster than usual as they got closer and closer to the point of no return. 

Leaning back against the wall, Alex gave him a slight eye roll, but smiled at the concern in John’s voice all the same. “Yes, John. Really, I’m fine. I’ve told you a million times.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I needed to hear it a million and one.” The corner of his lips turned up as he stared into Alex’s face, reassured slightly by the determined glint in those dark eyes. He leaned closer, one hand wrapping around his upper arm, and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Just relax, alright? You’re actually pretty charming when you’re not trying to piss people off. You’re going to be fine.”

He snorted a quiet breath, grinning up at John. The proximity was both comforting and terrifying in the context of where they were and who they were meeting. “Thanks.” He bit his lip, looked like he was holding something back, but John couldn’t figure out what it was. Then, whatever it was, it was gone. Alex pushed off of the wall with his hands, straightening up and continuing down the sidewalk, leaving John to hurry after him a beat later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the HL chapters are coming! I'm still adjusting to the new apartment/slowly unpacking and setting things up. I ran out of my little backlog of chapters for this story during the move and directly after, and these new chapters are proving difficult to write. But they're coming! 
> 
> Leave comments because your encouragement actually does help me to churn these out faster. 
> 
> As per usual, I'm over on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	39. Chapter 39

Even arriving ten minutes early, they weren’t able to beat John’s father to the restaurant. He was already at the bar, a cocktail resting on a napkin in front of him, his face dimly illuminated by the screen of his phone in the low lighting of the restaurant. _Good._ The thought slipped through John’s mind instinctively. The moment giving him the chance to lead Alex closer before his father could even register that something was off about their meeting. Giving him a chance to figure out his next move without his father’s scrutinizing gaze.

He didn’t look up until they were almost within his peripheral vision. “Jack,” he said in greeting, the note of surprise coming through as his eyes darted between the two of them. “It’s good to see you. Have a seat.”

He didn’t sit, not quite yet. “Father,” he started, feeling his heart rate pick up. He braced himself against the words, trying to hold eye contact and afraid of what he might find reflected back. “I wanted to introduce you to someone.” He could feel Alex glancing over at him, but he didn’t take his eyes off his father, concerned that if he broke the momentum now he wouldn’t be able to pick his courage back up off the floor and finish it. He was struck suddenly with the realization that it shouldn’t be _this hard_. Introducing someone to your family. That in a more perfect world it _wouldn’t_ be this hard. The thought set off a low smolder of indignation in his chest, and he let it catch just enough to fuel the impending admission. “This is Alexander,” he said, riding on the burst of adrenaline, and placing a hand on Alex’s lower back to motion him forward. “We’re dating.” 

His father pursed his lips for a moment, then gave a strained smile, tipped his head in acknowledgement. “It’s nice to meet you, Alexander.” His voice was cool, professional, entirely too stiff. John wanted to cringe against the formality. “Now, would you please take a seat, Jack? There’s no need to make such a scene.” He felt the heat rise to his face and quickly sat down, leaving Alex to follow suit and take the seat on his other side. “I take it we’ll need three chairs at the table then?”

Alex shot him a look that said _I told you so_ or maybe _You should have listened to me_ or _Why the hell didn’t you handle this while you had the chance?_

“Yes.”

His father sighed with barely restrained irritation at his lack of consideration, stood up to go speak to the hostess. Once he was out of earshot, John turned to Alex. “You good?”

The eye roll he gave would have been humorously dramatic if the situation weren’t so tense. “Stop asking me that, John. I’m fine. It’s not like that went any worse than I was expecting.”

He briefly wondered what exactly Alex had been expecting. Wondered if the comment about _not making a scene_ perhaps didn’t grate as badly against him as it did John. And maybe that made sense, because Alex didn’t have the particular memories to compare the words with, wasn’t doused with a ferocious splash of humiliation at being spoken to as he had been when he was a child throwing a tantrum at some political event rather than a grown man attempting to bridge the gap that his father had built with such indifference between them. 

He didn’t have time to continue their private conversation as his father was making his way back to the bar. “She said it’ll be another few minutes for a larger table, but they’ll be able to accommodate. I really wish you would have mentioned that you were bringing someone with you, Jack.” He was annoyed. John could hear it in the way his accent was seeping through a little more, and he was sure it wasn’t _actually_ because of the issue with the reservation. He had caught his father off guard with this, and he wasn’t happy about it. _Good._ Maybe it was petulant, but the spike of satisfaction was rising into something a little more reckless, and a poorly thought out response was already forming on his tongue. 

But before he could say anything, Alex spoke up. “That’s actually my fault. Sorry, sir.” John gave him a puzzled, slightly irritated look, but he brushed him off, just continued to give his father an apologetic smile. “I was supposed to go into the office to work on something this morning, and I was only able to get out of it at the last minute. Unfortunately I didn’t have the chance to give John much notice.” He gave a little grimace, and John couldn’t help staring blankly for a moment. He was _really_ laying it on thick with the blatant lie. “It’s nice to meet you as well, by the way,” he added, reaching his hand across the bar where John sat, making him acutely aware for the first time since he sat down that his father hadn’t offered his own hand to properly greet Alex before admonishing his son for his behavior. “Sorry again for the confusion about the reservation.” 

If John thought his father had seemed caught off guard before, it was nothing compared to this. He stared at Alex’s outstretched hand a beat too long before seeming to recover his manners and grasping it for a brief moment. “That’s quite alright, Alexander. I’m glad you were able to make it.” He took a sip of his cocktail as he pulled his hand back. “Would you boys like a drink while we wait?” 

John hesitated. The polite thing to do was graciously accept the offer, but he also wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to start drinking this early on when he was still so unsure how things were going to proceed. It’s not like his temper needed the extra pull of alcohol coursing through his blood at the moment. 

Alex, on the other hand, wasted no time flashing a smile and nodding. “That would be great. Thank you, sir.” A brief pause as his eyes shifted down to the hall full glass on the bar. “What are you drinking? It looks good.” _Jesus christ he really was laying it on thick._ But it seemed to be paying off– his father’s irritation easing in the face of Alex’s overly polite enthusiasm. 

“Old fashioned. They do a good job with them here. Most places get the ratio off, especially with the bitters.” 

“I’ll have to give it a try then.”

John kept his mouth shut against all the various comments he could think to make and ordered himself a beer. 

When the bartender passed over their drinks, he watched Alex take a sip and couldn't quite tell if the pleased hum of satisfaction he gave was acted or not. Whiskey wasn’t typically his first choice of alcohol. But, _dammit_ , it was working. His own words from outside on the sidewalk replayed in his brain. _You’re actually pretty charming when you’re not trying to piss people off._ He held back a wry smile at the thought because he was proving his point so thoroughly, but he felt no satisfaction in being right. If anything, the way Alex was so easily playing up this conversation was just unsettling. Melding the two areas of his life that he had kept so carefully distinct, separate, compartmentalized. His father grinned, made some comment about the drink. Alex responded in kind. Watching the interaction, John could almost forget that Alex had expressed on multiple occasions that he hated his father’s guts. 

“So, you mentioned you had to go into the office originally. What do you do for work, Alexander?”

“Oh, I work with John actually.” Ran a finger casually through the condensation on the glass as he spoke. “I’m an intern with Washington as well.”

John watched his father’s face carefully as one eyebrow raised just slightly. “Oh?” His eyes flickered to meet John’s, a flash of cautious warning there, and then back to lock on Alex again. “I hope that hasn’t caused any issues in the office. That sort of thing can be complicated after all.”

John was pretty sure there was an unspoken question in there, and he gripped his beer hard as he attempted to answer it. “No one in the office knows, so it doesn’t pose any _issues_.” He could feel the intensity in his father’s gaze, reproach at his tone, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Their precarious situation in meeting up with John’s father had seemed to bring out a surprising amount of caution in Alex. John was impressed honestly. Impressed and maybe a little disappointed that he wasn’t fighting back more, though he wouldn’t admit that particular truth. He hadn’t expected him to show so much restraint. In contrast to Alex’s method of handling the encounter, having Alex here by his side as he spoke with his father about their relationship only emboldened John. It was one thing to make subtle implications about his actions and choices when it was just father and son. When John was the only one there to hear them. He was able to bite down the bitter pills of regret and disappointment easily enough when they were his alone to bear. But for his father to speak like this in front of Alex just felt insulting, and he found it harder than ever to hold himself back. So he didn’t. “You don’t need to worry, father,” he said, adding a certain amount of bite to the last word. “I haven’t gone out and shouted the news to the entire city from the top of the Empire State Building.” 

His father gripped his drink tighter as well, mirroring John’s own instinctive habit. “Jack.” He didn’t elaborate, the one word loaded with warning in both its tone and its brevity. 

The tension had started to settle thick when the hostess came to announce that their table was ready. When neither of the other two got up right away, Alex hopped down from his barstool, giving her a grateful, if strained, smile and a quick thank you. The action was enough to break the spell of the moment, and John and his father stood at the same time, the three of them following the young woman into the dining area. 

They were guided to a spacious booth lining the wall of the room, and Alex slid inside, allowing John to take a seat next to him on the outside of the bench across from his father on the other side. 

His father cleared his throat, perhaps in an attempt to clear away some of the strain that had fallen over their party without actually addressing anything John had said. “So, Alexander, does your family live in the city?”

John cringed, because _of course_ he had to ask about Alex’s family. Not that he knew about the situation of course, but he couldn’t help the fleeting concern at how the question would be received. Knew it wasn’t one of Alex’s favorite subjects to speak on. 

But he just gave a half hearted smile and shook his head, brushing it off, responded with an ambiguous, “No, sir. I moved here for school and never left after graduation.”

“Ah, I see.” And in perhaps the one silver lining to this whole disaster of a conversation, he didn’t follow up with more questions about Alex’s family. “Where did you go to school?” 

“Columbia.”

John felt a glaring burn of protective anger at the blatant surprise in his father’s expression. As if, for whatever presumptive reasons, it was just unfathomable that Alex could have attended an Ivy League school. John found there were a lot of things he was just now realizing he hated about how his father carried out interactions with other people. Things he hadn’t realized until he saw them through the lens of his interactions with Alex. 

Still engaged in the conversation as John’s mind wandered, his father made a soft hum of acknowledgment. “You studied political science I’m assuming? Since you’re interning with Washington.” 

“And econ. I double-majored.” Alex took a sip of his drink, looking determinedly composed at the line of questioning. 

Again, that look of surprise. John felt himself bristle, his hand digging into his own thigh under the table. 

“That must have been quite the challenge.”

“Alex graduated summa cum laude, father. Clearly it wasn’t _that_ much of a challenge for him.” 

He felt Alex reach a hand under the table to grip at his knee, but he didn’t take his eyes off his father as he glared across the booth, his earlier smoldering indignation flaring into something much more dangerous and defiant now. 

His father picked up on the shift. Responded in kind, though keeping up the pretense of composure much better than John was able. “It’s a shame you busied yourself with so many _distractions_ at school, Jack, or perhaps you could have graduated with honors as well.”

The jab landed like a slap to the face, the clear implication, a reference to his college experimenting, coming out to his father while he was home on break. _Distractions._ He felt his face flush with a mix of indignation and confused shame at the words. _Just don’t let these distractions affect your chances of success._ A flashback to another time. Another place. Back in South Carolina surrounded by the heat and the stifling house of his childhood and the ever-increasing feeling that he had simply outgrown the place he had once called home. He thought about getting up, walking to the bathroom or outside for a moment to clear his head, but he couldn’t leave Alex alone with his father. Fuck, for all he knew he’d try to bribe Alex with hush money or convince him that the two of them breaking up was in everyone’s best interests. 

Before he could spit out another reckless retort, Alex cleared his throat. “John and I ended up at the same internship in the end, so I hardly think that’s worth mentioning.” John felt both exceedingly grateful for the defense, and ashamed that he needed it so badly in the first place.

He was relieved to see the waiter approaching their table, a chance to interrupt the painful tide of the conversation for a brief reprieve. Turned to study Alex’s face as his father asked the waiter upwards of ten different questions related to the menu. Alex was quickly scanning the food options now, too occupied by the relentless interrogation and John’s inflammatory reactions to properly look until that moment. He leaned over and tapped the printed description of a seafood dish he knew Alex would like, having looked over the menu extensively in his preparation for the day. And maybe his preparation had done shit to actually help because everything seemed to be falling apart anyway, but at least he could offer _something_. As the waiter turned his expectant gaze on Alex, he looked relieved to have an answer to give and readily recited the meal John had pointed out. 

Once they were alone at the table again, his father looked between the two of them carefully. “So, I take it things have been kept discreet then, based on your earlier comments, Jack?” He uttered the words with a certain tone, subtle, but clearly implying those _earlier comments_ weren’t appreciated. 

John felt the rush of angry heat flare to his face. _Fuck._ Maybe Alex’s long standing arguments were starting to get to him, but the whole thing really did feel enormously unfair when it was being directed at him, at _both of them_ , so bluntly. “Discreet enough.”

His father’s brows shot up, then his eyes narrowed, and John felt a twisted sort of pleasure at watching another slight crack appear in his carefully constructed control. “What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.” Took a sip of beer without breaking eye contact.

Alex’s hand tightened on his knee, his fingers digging in uncomfortably. “We’ve been very careful, sir. Only a couple of trusted friends know about our relationship.” 

John breathed an irritated sigh. _A couple of friends and every person who’d seen them out in public holding hands, trading quick kisses._ It’s not like he was lying. Why couldn’t Alex just let him have this? He wanted– well, he honestly wasn’t quite sure what he wanted. What he was hoping to get out of this exchange. But for once he found himself able to push the boundaries of what their familial relationship had been up to this point, and he wasn’t ready to let that energy just drop away. 

But now his father seemed reassured, was settling back into his side of the booth more comfortably. His relative ease only made John’s blood run hotter. “That’s good. I’m sure you understand it’s a delicate situation, Alexander.” 

“ _Delicate_.” A derisive laugh slipped out from John's throat as he stared his father down. “What a nice way of phrasing politically inconvenient.” 

“ _Ja_ _ck_ , that’s enough.”

He felt his face turn red at the sharp reprimand, and suddenly he was thirteen again, scolded, embarrassed, unable to do anything but snap his jaw shut under the weight of his father’s commanding glare. 

“I need some air.” His father stood from the table, looked between the two of them with a weary expression, John still a little flushed, staring defiantly back, Alex sitting uncomfortably tense, his back a few inches from the seat behind them. His eyes fixed on John before he turned away. “Get yourself under control before I come back, _please_.” 

As soon as the door to the restaurant closed behind him, Alex pivoted sharply in his seat. “What the hell was _that_?”

John blinked at him, swallowed down the nervous guilt as he dissected his tone. Angry. Confused. Annoyed. _Hurt._ “What?”

“That fucking pathetic power grab you just made. Jesus fuck, John.”

The adrenaline still lying indolent in his blood spiked again now. “Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to tell him to fuck off?”

“Things were going well,” he snapped back, pointedly ignoring John’s question. “You made a whole big deal about how all of this, your dad’s reasoning, not pissing off your family, was somewhat justified. And now… _what_? What the hell are you doing?”

John’s brow pulled down in the middle, trying to work through Alex’s words past the buzz of anger running beneath his skin. “Why are you upset? Everything I said– you agree with it don’t you?”

“That’s not the point, John!” He slapped his hand down on the table, a little too hard, then cringed when he noticed a few people look their way. Dropped it back down into his lap, lowered his voice to a quiet hiss. “I’m trying so _goddamn hard_ here. Trying to make a good impression. Trying to keep things a secret. Trying to keep _you_ happy. And you’re just throwing all of that effort out the fucking window.”

“My father’s being a dick.” The argument sounded weak and childish to his own ears, but he wasn’t willing to completely concede that his behavior had been unfounded yet. 

“I had figured that you were used to that by now.” Alex gave him a level gaze, the steadier of the two of them by far right now.

The wry breath of laughter sounded hollow to his own ears. “It’s different this time.” Different because it was _Alex_ taking the brunt of some of that disapproval. Their _relationship_ being scrutinized, rather than just the abstract idea of him being with another man. 

Alex’s eyes softened, and maybe he could read the expression well enough in John’s face to garner some meaning out of his vague response. “Just cool it, okay? I told you before, I can handle this. You don’t need to get all moronically chivalrous on my behalf.” 

John deflated a little, let the words cool off some of the fiery anger. 

“Plus, I would really like to be able to finish my stupidly expensive meal without either of you storming off first.” His hand came back to rest right above John’s knee, thumb stroking little circles over the fabric of his pants, and John thought that maybe, just maybe, they’d make it through the rest of the meal without him getting himself disowned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof here we go
> 
> Leave comments pretty please. I know you have thoughts after that! I would like to hear them! 
> 
> Over on tumblr at @ilovefoodandgirls


	40. Chapter 40

When his father slid back into the booth, John had to forcibly shove down the new instinctive urge to say something purposefully spiteful. The magnetic pull towards an argument reminding him more of Alex’s tendencies than his own. He wondered briefly if personality traits were contagious. But, well, his father’s warning to get his emotions in check along with Alex’s plea to _cool it_ were still fresh in his mind, so he bit back his own anger in favor of keeping the rest of their meal as uneventful as possible. And he _almost_ made it the rest of the encounter keeping things _uneventful_. 

Towards the end of the meal, as they were finishing drinks and waiting on the check, his father’s phone rang. To his credit, he glanced down at the screen and silenced it after a moment, slipping it back in his pocket without much fanfare. “Sorry about that. Just a call from one of the other members of a committee I sit on. Pretty sure I’ll have to give him a call back after this– it’s most likely about a bill we’re reviewing and trying to wrap up before it moves to a vote.”

It’s vague enough that John can’t make anything of that, but Alex gets a certain look on his face. Like he’s reaching through a few different lines of thought, memories, pockets of knowledge to pull up the answer that he wants and then suddenly– “Oh, the latest employment discrimination bill, right?”

It takes John a minute to connect some of those dots because _how in the world_ would Alex know which bill he was talking about? But, well, Alex did keep up with that sort of thing much more thoroughly than John himself did. And considering he had looked up his father’s voting record at one point when they had started seeing each other, it wasn’t entirely shocking that he’d look up which committees he sat on as well. Especially in preparation for something like _this_. 

His father looked surprised to have that piece of information called out so readily, but gave a close-lipped smile and nodded his head in affirmation. “The very one.”

“Hmm.” Alex took a sip of his drink, and John could practically see the gears turning. “How many useful provisions have been cut so far to make it more palatable?” 

His father looked across the table, leveled a stare at Alex, and gave him a wry smile. “Alexander, you must know I can’t share that information until it’s made public.”

He gave an easy shrug of his shoulders. “Worth a shot.” He pointedly avoided eye contact with John before continuing, instead keeping his heated gaze fixed on his father. Didn’t so much as raise his voice as he continued. “So, what’s your stance on the bill?”

His father blinked twice, taken aback at the blunt question. “My stance?” 

_They didn’t do this._ John and his father. Didn’t talk about the specifics of politics and his father’s role in it. Kept a safe distance between his father’s professional life and his family life. Well, really between his father’s politics and John’s own personal life. He glanced between the two of them, trying to calm the panic rising in his chest at the abrupt change in dynamic Alex seemed intent on ushering forward. 

“Yes.” Another sip. “You’re on the committee, you must have a thorough stance on the bill itself, specifics of any recent changes aside of course. In general, are you for or against the bill as a whole?”

“I’m planning on voting against it as it stands, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Ah.” And now he _did_ turn to look at John, his brows raised, clearly biting the inside of his cheek to hold back more of a response as he thought through his next words. 

John wasn’t entirely sure of the specifics of the bill, but he knew enough to see where Alex was headed with the line of questions. Wasn’t sure if he was nervous or excited to see how the impending interaction would play out, but regardless of his own feelings, he could feel the conflict about to snap, like a tree finally falling in the crushing winds of a storm. 

“No offense, sir,” Alex started, the tone not exactly conveying the sentiment the words implied. “But why even bother with all of the civility of this nice sit down lunch if you’re going to turn around, head back to DC, and so blatantly spit in the face of people like us? People who just want to be able to go to work and make a living without being persecuted for no goddamn reason?” 

_“Excuse me?”_

John watched as his father visibly cringed away from the conversation, his spine straightening and his hands pressed to the tops of his thighs as he glared at Alex with a sudden sour expression conveying complete distaste, a stark contrast to moments before as they were making small talk about his father’s latest travel venture. 

The waiter came back at that moment, placed the check diplomatically in the middle of the table, either oblivious to the tension or ignoring it. Before his father could reach for his wallet, Alex had snatched the little black folder and was peering down at the receipt. “Do you have an actual answer to that question? Or just performative outrage at the fact that I called you out on it?” He dug around in his pocket and threw a few bills down on the table to cover his own meal and tip and propped the check back up in between them. 

When his father didn’t answer, just stared incredulously back at the two of them, and then more specifically shifted his gaze intently towards John as if demanding of him _say something_ , Alex shook his head sharply back and forth. “Take that as a no.” He glanced at John, and his expression softened for just a second, his eyebrows pulled up in the middle in a look that was both sad and not altogether surprised. “Can I get up?” He stared pointedly at the space where John was blocking his exit. 

John stood, took a step back to let Alex slide past. Watched as he threw a final, fiery look down at his father and turned sharply on his heel to storm out of the restaurant without another word. John could feel the heat in his own face, and perhaps his father took it as embarrassment rather than the raging anger it was when he muttered, “Well, that was dramatic.”

“He’s right,” John said, his voice still subdued by the quiet fury that was gripping his heart in a suffocating squeeze. “ _Fuck_ , can you just admit that your _career_ has the effect of essentially proving that you don’t give a damn about my dignity?” 

“Jack, calm _down_.” 

He was still standing, one hand gripping in tightly to the leather of the booth seat, his knuckles going white with the effort of it. He could feel his father’s gaze trying to relay a silent message. _Sit down, stop this. Behave._ But he couldn’t. He was beyond that at this point. And he knew he had to go after Alex, but he couldn’t do that without saying his piece first. Wouldn’t forgive himself if he let Alex take the brunt of his father’s disapproval without doubling down on everything he had said. 

“Fuck off.” His voice was rising, and he could feel other diners turning to stare, but he couldn’t muster the self consciousness that would normally reign him in. “He’s right. _I’m right._ And you have nothing to say to prove me otherwise so you’re trying to guilt me into obedience like usual. You can’t keep doing this! I’m almost twenty four years old for god’s sake!” He ran a hand back through his hair, feeling the adrenaline spike hot and angry beneath his skin and pounding the blood faster into his heart. “Just fucking _admit it_.” 

He had never seen his father look so utterly lost for words. Felt the corner of his lip turn up in an oddly satisfied smirk. “Whatever. I’ll leave it to you to figure out how to explain to your voter base when we take things public then. Maybe I’ll even give one of the news outlets an interview. Make sure the _real_ story is getting out there rather than whatever bullshit you try to spin.”

An unsteady breath. He looked up at John, and there was the barest hint of distress behind his eyes. Concern in the tight frown pulling at the corners of his lips. “Jack, think of your brothers and sisters.” 

_“Fuck off,”_ he repeated, nearly yelling now. “They’ll be fine.” A small voice in his head worried that maybe that wasn’t true, but he squeezed his eyes shut and told himself he’d consider those consequences later. He snatched his phone off the table, turned to leave, then stopped, glaring back for just a moment. “I’m not going to law school by the way. So stop _fucking_ asking about it.” 

With that, he really did leave. Hurried through the restaurant, barely seeing anything as he passed by servers and diners in a blur of indignation and heady adrenaline. As he shoved his way past a couple of tourists heading inside, he dug in his pocket for his phone, ready to text Alex and find out if he was already halfway to the subway stop back to his apartment, but he suddenly pulled up short. As he glanced up, he saw Alex leaning heavily outside the brick building, a little ways away from the door on the other side of the large windows flanking the entrance, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, fists clenched at his sides, trembling just a tiny bit. John bit at his lip, feeling guilt wash over him all at once. It took a minute to even process _what_ he felt guilty for. _For putting him in this position in the first place. For not saying anything to my father sooner. Before today. For making him put up with this whole damn situation so long._

He approached slowly, but Alex didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in his own thoughts to hear John’s footsteps. Or perhaps assuming he was just one of thousands of other pedestrians passing by on the streets of New York City. John leaned against the wall next to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, starling him out of his own mind with a jerk of his entire body away from the touch. 

_“Fuck,”_ he hissed, eyes flying open in a mix of alarm and surprise. When he caught sight of John, the panic faded from his face, but he could still see the harsh rise and fall of his chest as he calmed his heart rate. “You scared me, asshole.”

John gave him a soft, hesitant smile. “I know you told me to stop asking, but given the circumstances... you okay?”

“Shit I’m– yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” He let out a long, noisy breath, seeming to sink even deeper against the wall with the motion. “Sorry. I– fuck. I’m sorry, John. I didn’t mean to go off like that. I just–”

He didn’t get to finish his thought. Unable to hold back any longer, John grabbed at his upper arm, rough, pulling him close enough so their bodies were pressed together, and crashed their lips against one another. Forced his tongue past lips parted in surprise. The moment entirely composed of desperate, angry, relieved, emotionally-fueled passion. Adjusted his footing enough to nudge Alex back against the wall again, to step closer so they were tangled up in one another, John’s leg between both of Alex’s, one hand wrapped towards the back of his neck, the other sliding lower to wrap around and grab at his lower back. Alex made a short surprised noise into his mouth, but rather than pull away, he melted in closer, wrapped his arms up around John’s shoulders and tugged him down to deepen the kiss just past the bounds of what was socially acceptable. 

As John dug his fingers in tighter to the material of Alex’s shirt, grasping, feeling the soft give of skin and muscle underneath, he was suddenly aware that his father would be walking out of the restaurant to head back to his hotel at any minute. Would _see_ the two of them there, unashamedly making out on the sidewalk. 

_Good._

He pulled back just enough to bite lightly at Alex’s lower lip, drawing a low groan out of him. Was barely aware of the crowds walking past them, moving decidedly out of the way to go around the two of them, shooting them disapproving glances. Spent a couple more minutes alternating between shoving his tongue in deep and tracing it along Alex’s lips, biting again, until he finally brought a hand down to John’s chest putting just a tiny bit of distance between them. 

“Hey,” he said, looking flushed and breathless and beautiful. “Are you okay?” A spark of concern hovering just under the surface. “I know I fucked up in there–“

John knocked his hand aside and pressed another insistent kiss to his lips to cut off his words. Murmured right off of his lips, “Don't apologize, Alex. That was hot.” 

He pushed back with a startled laugh, accidentally knocking his head lightly against the brick wall. “You’re insane.” But he grinned, his expression a mix of impressed admiration and burning heat. “I’m okay with that though. I mean, if me running my mouth gets you all hot and bothered I’m not complaining.”

“Let’s go back to your place,” John told him, lips just off the side of his jaw as he trailed kisses across his face and down to his neck, appreciating the soft, stuttering breaths coming from Alex’s lips. 

“Your place is closer.” He leaned his head out of the way, giving better access and biting down on his lower lip.

He had a point, but John couldn’t fathom going back to his own apartment, scattered with furniture that his father had helped pick out, tainted by the reminder that he was funding all of it. The reminder that without his father he wouldn’t even _be_ here in the city with Alex right now. “We can make out on the subway.”

“You’ve convinced me,” Alex said, flashing a delighted grin, all teeth, and John felt his already erratic heartbeat skip. Grabbed Alex’s hand and dragged him to the nearest subway stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HL drama part 2! 
> 
> Leave some comments :) 
> 
> Come chat on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

They didn’t even make it inside. John pushed him up against the side of the building, running a hand through his hair and brushing lips against his cheek, neck, jaw, lips. Alex bit back a groan and did his best to keep his erection at bay. “John,” he complained weakly, unsure whether he even wanted to interrupt. “Upstairs.”

“Too many damn stairs,” he muttered between kisses that were quickly turning into bites. 

“Elevator,” Alex countered, already feeling breathless. Doubted he could make it up the stairs if he tried right at that moment. 

“You hate that elevator. Always say it’s slow and going to break at the slightest provocation.”

“Don’t provoke it then.”

John snorted a soft breath of laughter against his neck, giving the darkening bruise he had sucked into the skin a final kiss. Let Alex straighten back up and grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the door. 

“By the way,” Alex said, still catching his breath. “Shoving me up against the elevator walls and continuing _that_ probably counts as provoking it.” One of the other occupants of his building gave them a pointed look as she walked down the steps to the sidewalk while they passed in the other direction to get inside. 

“Maybe I’ll take my chances then.” He jabbed at the button a few times, impatient. “I wouldn’t mind being stuck in an elevator with you.”

Alex made a face. “No.”

_“Hey.”_

“Sorry, not no to being stuck in an elevator _with you_ , no to _being stuck in an elevator_.”

John raised a brow, pausing to look him over. “Is this like… a thing for you?”

“Nobody wants to get stuck in an elevator, John!” The doors slid open, and he followed John inside, pushing the button for his floor and glancing briefly at the posted inspection results on the wall. “Do you know how many old buildings with elevators there are in this city? You think every single one is _actually_ up to code?”

“Killing the mood with questions about OSHA statistics a little bit.”

“I’m just saying, if any elevators were to break down it would be ones in buildings like this that probably haven’t been properly updated in over ten years. I love this city, don’t get me wrong, but there is definitely a certain practicality to living in a house that is at most two floors.” 

Thankfully, the doors did jerk open– a little too roughly for Alex’s liking– on the fifth floor, and the two of them made their way down the hall. Alex dug around in his pockets as they went, getting more frantic with his searching as they approached the door and he still hadn’t found what he was looking for. Stopped dead in front of his apartment and turned sharply to face John. “You’re going to hate me.”

“What?” There was a certain amount of resigned trepidation in his voice, as if he already knew the answer.

“My keys–” He patted his pockets again, as if that would suddenly make them appear. “I must have left them at your place.”

_“Alex.”_

“I know, I know. Do you want to go back?” 

“No, I want to get my tongue back in your mouth,” he growled, sliding his hands around his waist and pulling him in tight, drawing a little surprised laugh from Alex’s lips. 

“Okay.” He glanced quickly down the hall and back. “I have an idea. Come on.” 

John blinked in confusion, but followed readily as Alex tugged him towards the stairwell. He didn’t stop once the door closed behind them. Just started trekking up the last few floors with John in tow offering half formed questions about what they were doing until they reached the final landing, the door to the roof cracked the tiniest bit, held open with a thin length of pipe. 

“Sorry there’s not much of a view,” he said, holding the door open for John and then carefully closing it behind them, ensuring the pipe stayed securely in place. “Too many buildings between here and the proper skyline blocking it out. But it’s private enough, right?” 

He watched as John glanced down at the rough concrete of the rooftop, and then as he took in the surrounding area, a small park a block over, other buildings to either side of them, barest glimpse of the river in the distance. “Yeah, this will work,” he said with a grin. 

Alex let out a breath of relief that he hadn’t quite realized he had been holding. He’d rather have this brief interlude of excitement and contentment between the conversation that was surely looming, and was worried that killing the mood entirely by locking himself out would have spurred that talk on quicker instead. But with the way John was looking at him now, he was definitely eager for something other than conversation, and with the way the day had led them to this spot rather than towards another fight or worse, well he was ready to give John just about anything he asked for. 

Taking a deep breath, feeling the breeze tickle his hair against his neck, looking out at the city around them, it felt like in that moment the gravity of everything that had just played out at lunch was no more consequential than any other of the hundreds of tiny events that passed by them every day. Because even after every stumble, every misstep, John was _here_. He hadn’t left. Hadn’t decided the trouble of that lunch, of telling his father, of Alex getting thrown off by John’s sudden anger, and then of _Alex’s own_ sudden burst of anger, all just wasn’t worth it. Apparently, by some miracle, John had decided it _was_ all worth it. That _he_ was somehow worth all of these complications. It seemed impossible. Some dream he was bound to wake up from eventually because people didn’t just _stay_. 

He felt heat prick at the corners of his eyes and quickly turned his face away, covering up the action by shifting his body entirely, walking around the little area where the stairs ascended up to the roof, over to the opposite side from the door where no one would see them on the off chance anyone _did_ come up here. As John followed after him, he hurriedly wiped at the corners of his eyes. 

_God, don’t fucking cry. Not here. Not now._

He took a deep breath in and slowly released it. Maybe the innocent enough questioning from John’s dad about his own parents was affecting him more than he thought. Or maybe it was the thought of John prioritizing him _over_ his own family. Whatever the reasoning, which he couldn’t quite parse out, it was raising far too much emotion high in his chest, making him feel almost _fragile_ , and he didn’t _want_ to feel fragile. 

“What–” John questioned, startled as Alex turned to grab at his wrist, pull him back so he was pressing Alex against the bricks. Dragged his hand up to the wall, so he was blocking him in, trapping him there between the weight of their bodies. 

“You said something about getting your tongue back in my mouth?” he purred, staring up at John through his lashes, swallowing down anything else trying to force its way into his consciousness. 

The groan John responded with was low and desperate, and it helped to clear his head a little, even more so when he felt his hand come and grip his wrist, push it roughly up against the wall behind him. 

“John, _yes_.” He angled his head up, closed his eyes as the breeze brushed against the side of his face, waiting for his lips. Jerked in surprise when instead he felt a hand reaching down for his fly, popping the button before he had time to react. He made a short, surprised noise as John yanked the zipper down, slid his hand inside, running fingers up and down as he stiffened under his touch. 

“I thought,” Alex joked, voice tight in his throat as he fought back the urge to make less coherent noises. “That you wanted to make out, and yet you haven’t put your lips back on me since we got up here.” 

“Mmm, sorry about that,” John responded, the corner of his lip twitching up in a mischievous smile. Alex bit back any further smart comments as he released his wrist and dropped down to his knees, tugging his pants and boxers briefs down to his thighs. He bit down on his lip to half stifle the moan as the air hit his now-exposed cock. “Ever gotten a blowjob on a roof before?”

“Not _this_ roof.” Couldn’t help his own satisfied grin at the look of surprise on John’s face. “But that’s a story for another time.” 

John just shook his head with a soft, incredulous laugh, leaning forward and stroking his fingers gently up his shaft. Alex felt the muscles in his stomach tighten as heat ran beneath his skin, pooling in his groin. He leaned back more securely against the wall and closed his eyes as he felt John’s lips soft at the top of his thigh. Couldn’t help the way his hips tipped closer, the quiet whimper from his throat as he demanded, “More.”

A hand firm on his hip now, keeping him pressed down. “Stay still, okay?” John blinked up at him, mouth just inches away from the head of his cock, and Alex could only nod, too afraid of what noise might come out if he tried to speak right now. Watched as he licked his lips and opened, swallowing him down part way and pressing his tongue along the underside of his shaft as he bobbed back up. 

Alex went to bring a hand down to his hair, the absentminded urge to rest it against the back of his head, but was halted as John pulled off at the slight movement, his eyebrows raised. “Alex, stay still.” 

“Oh.” He brought his hand back down to his side, pressing his palm flat against the cool brick. “Right.” 

John gave a quick, breathless laugh, his cheeks flushed. Smiled sweetly up at Alex again before sliding back down, lips wet and warm against his skin, that slick friction too much and _not enough_ all at once. He mentally kicked himself for leaving his keys at John’s place, locking himself out of his apartment, away from his bed and the lube and even more build up than John’s mouth around him could provide. Bit down hard on his lip when John sucked in his cheeks, more friction and suction and heat racing in his veins. Kept his eyes fixed down on his boyfriend as a soft gust of wind rustled his hair, as he brought one hand up to tuck away a stray curl that was getting in the way, the action tickling his lower stomach and thigh. For some reason, the peaceful, quiet intimacy of it tipped him a little closer, and he had to fight for control of his body before he got too close too soon. 

As he attempted to steady himself though, he felt that bubbling emotion from earlier resurface. Stared down in awe at John, gorgeous in the midday autumn sun, his face reflecting the light and his cheeks scattered with countless freckles and his eyes warm and wide as he blinked up through his lashes at the awkward angle. Alex’s mind drifted to earlier, at lunch, watching as John couldn’t hold back his anger, the intensity in his eyes as the dam finally broke. Anger on _Alex’s behalf_ , he had realized without a trace of doubt. Because why else would he finally say something after so many years of keeping his mouth shut in the face of everything? Finally speaking up after everything his dad said or did for the sake of his career? It was… a lot. More than he had dared to hope for. More than he had come equipped to deal with if he was being completely honest. But now, with the benefit of some time and a heated subway ride separating him from the awkward tension of the moment, he could look back and see the pure, protective desire to defend him, to defend _the two of them_ , everything they had together. He could feel that heat behind his eyes again, his cheeks going red with the effort of trying to choke the emotion back down. 

Despite the insistent directions from earlier, he reached a hand out, stroked his thumb along John’s cheekbone. When he received an almost reproachful look in return he chewed at his lip a moment before admitting in a near whisper, “Please. I just– I need to be close to you.”

John’s expression softened instantly, and he ran his tongue around the head of Alex’s cock in a way that drew out a broken moan. “John, please. I need–” He didn’t know how to finish that, and he could feel the hot tears starting to prick at the corners of his eyes, so he leaned back against the wall and took another breath, cupping John’s cheek as continued to bob along his length, taking him in a little faster now, pressing his tongue flat against him and hollowing his cheeks, running a hand up along the inside of Alex’s thigh. He felt himself start to tremble just the tiniest bit at the touch and braced himself against the bricks a little harder. “Fuck, I’m close. I need you. I need– _Please, John._ ” 

With just one more well timed bob of his head, taking him in just a little bit farther and pressing fingers into the flesh of his thigh, Alex felt himself cresting over the edge, every muscle in his body seeming to tighten as he squeezed his eyes shut, the feeling of the wind on his face almost a startling contrast in the moment to the warmth flooding his body as he felt his release, his entire perception narrowed down to his own cock and John’s mouth around him, the motion of him swallowing, working his come down his throat, just driving him farther and farther into that fuzzy, blissful height of pleasure. 

It took Alex a few minutes to recover, breathing hard, shallow breaths. He sunk down onto the concrete, his back still against the wall, and when he was eye level with John, he pulled him in for a deep, lingering kiss, tasting himself on his tongue and moaning quietly into his mouth, the feeling of contentment and perfection there. He didn’t realize he had tears on his cheeks until John brushed his thumb over the flush-heated skin. He looked up into his eyes to see a spark of concern.

“You okay? Was it something I did?” 

And Alex couldn’t quite connect the dots in his line of thinking between everything that had happened that day and in the months prior and in that very moment with the sharp look of worry in his furrowed brow. Was barely thinking at all when he opened his mouth, one hand still cupping John’s cheek, his thumb tracing a little pattern back and forth. “I love you.” 

_Fuck._

He regained enough of his faculties in the brief silence that followed to regret blurting out the words. It had been a long morning, and he hadn’t thought this through enough yet. He didn’t want to scare John off right after he had stood up to his dad after all. This was the type of important declaration that took time and planning, enough consideration to know that you were absolutely sure what you were saying.

Then, after what seemed like an eternity but was in reality only a few seconds, John broke out into a wide smile. His face still flushed, hair tangling in the breeze, lips a little swollen. “I love you too.” 

Alex sunk further against the ground, let out a strained breath of relief. “You sure?” 

The laugh John gave was a mixture of exasperated and elated “Are _you_?” Leaned in and pressed another kiss against his lips, slow and practiced, one hand balanced against his chest, taking the time to really drink in the moment, like he was trying to capture the memory. “Of course I’m sure, Alex.” 

As John pressed another kiss to his lips, he thought through the rhetorical question, because as much as the words had been simmering beneath the surface for at least a week now, he _hadn’t_ really stopped to consider any of the deeper implications behind them. Had been content to shove all of it to the back of his mind, sure that nothing would push him over the edge to let them slip out so carelessly. 

Just minutes ago, John had sounded so confident, but Alex couldn’t help but wonder how anyone could _ever_ be sure of something like that? Love was such an abstract idea after all. No set guidelines or qualifications, no checklist to tick off every prerequisite before you could claim that title. But, as John pulled back again, staring deeply into his eyes with a smile that put the sunshine around them to shame, he felt sure _enough_. Alex reached out, wrapping arms around his neck, and tugged him back down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone have "Alex says I love you post-rooftop-blowjob" on their ABPSYCA bingo card or...? 
> 
> :D 
> 
> Leave comments please <3 
> 
> Over on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	42. Chapter 42

One blowjob later, John and Alex were lying side by side on the cool concrete, staring up at the clouds. John glanced sideways, tilting his head just enough to look over at Alex, squeezing where their hands were twined together in the space between them. “I love you,” he said again, glad to finally be able to speak the words out loud. Watched as Alex tried and failed to stop the smile spreading on his face. 

“Love you too, you sap.” He remained staring above them at the sky, and there was something distracted in the way his brow was pulled just slightly down. 

“What are you thinking about?”

“Everything.”

John turned more fully onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow and raising a brow at the response. “Very succinct.” Couldn’t help staring at his eyes when they glinted with amusement at his words.

The grin on Alex’s face widened just a fraction before he spoke again. “Sorry, sorry. Mostly thinking about earlier. How I screwed up at lunch.”

“You didn’t _screw up_ , Alex,” he said, soft but insistent. Leaned over and brushed a wayward strand of hair out of Alex’s face. “If anything, I screwed up. But oh well.” And he meant it. None of it felt like it mattered right now. The weight of expectations that he had been carrying for so long suddenly seemed to have disappeared. 

“You weren’t _that_ bad,” Alex argued, that slightly serious look still lingering on his face. “I mean, maybe you antagonized your dad a little bit, but you got it together by the end.”

 _Oh._ He realized all at once that in the midst of everything he had forgotten to tell Alex about his abrupt exit from the restaurant. 

“Not exactly.” He pulled a face. He had been trying hard not to remember the specifics of that conversation until now, too content to just relax into the serenity of an uninterrupted afternoon, the sun warming his skin, wrapped up in the feeling of peaceful intimacy with Alex by his side. 

Finally, Alex turned to look at him properly, his brow furrowing deeper in question. 

“After you left,” John started, his voice carrying just a tiny hint of the regret that was starting to creep in. “I may have lost my temper a bit.”

The look on Alex’s face turned suspicious, but there was a certain amount of pride there as well. “What did you say to him?”

John felt his cheeks go pink as he thought it through, hindsight only serving to highlight the worst of his impulsive recklessness. “Mostly I just told him to fuck off repeatedly.”

“Like… did you actually say the words _fuck off_?” Alex was doing a terrible job of hiding the delighted grin on his face, but John just gave a slightly nervous laugh. 

“Yeah. As well as a few other poorly thought through comments. I’m sure he’s pissed but–” He shrugged, matching Alex’s grin now. “It’s worth it I think. For this.”

Alex relaxed back into his previous position, staring up above them. “You’re only saying that because I give such good blowjobs.” 

Feeling a sudden rush of giddy affection, John rolled on top of him, bracing himself on his hands against the rooftop and leaning down to capture his lips in a deep kiss. “You _do_ give excellent blowjobs, but that’s not the only reason I love you.”

“Not the _only_ reason,” Alex repeated for emphasis, rolling his eyes. 

“I’m not going to pretend it’s not a factor.” He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his jaw. “But there are other things.”

Alex smiled, letting his eyes close briefly as John moved back up to his lips. “Such as?”

“I really don’t think you need the ego boost,” he muttered, lips just barely off of his. Took a moment to shake the hair out of his own face as another breeze rushed by. 

“Humor me.”

John sighed, feigning exasperation, and considered. “I love how hardworking you are,” he said, placing a kiss to his cheek. “And smart.” Another kiss, this time under his jaw. “And talented.” Down to his neck. “I love the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching.”

He glanced up to see Alex’s cheeks go red and pressed another kiss to his neck, feeling his pulse somewhere near his lips. “I love that you get embarrassed when I call you out on dumb shit like that.” 

“Jerk,” Alex quipped, but he was still smiling, his eyes closed, head tilted so John could keep showering him with affection. 

“I love your smile,” he continued, repositioning so he could press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Your eyes.” 

“What other body parts do you love?” he asked, making the innuendo clear in his tone. 

John rolled his eyes and swatted at his arm. “I love that you make me laugh,” he said pointedly. “And I love that you’ve always tried so hard to make things work. To make things easier for me.” 

Alex blinked his eyes open, the smile faltering just a bit, and peered up at him. “I want you to be happy, John. Whatever that means.”

“I know.” He did know that Alex wanted him to be happy at least, even if he wasn’t necessarily sure what that would mean in the coming day or week or month. The consequences of lunch were suddenly clouding over his mood, and he could see Alex’s look of concern growing sharper. “I know, Alex. Really, I do. I just… I don’t know. I have a lot on my mind.” 

“Unsurprising considering the day you’ve had,” he mused, chewing at the inside of his cheek as he stared up at him. “Do you want to head back to your place at least? Get inside and sit down and– I don’t know– talk about it?”

John paused for a moment, trying to think it over. All he really wanted was to stay up here out in the sun and lay with Alex for the duration of the afternoon, avoiding any sort of negative influence from the outside world. Just the two of them, and nothing else. He sighed, knowing that was unrealistic, no matter how much he wished it wasn’t. “Okay, yeah. Let’s head back.” John pulled his phone out of his pocket as he sat back up on his knees, and then froze when the screen came into view. “Oh, shit.” Two missed calls from his father. One text. He pulled the message up first. 

\--Dad: Jack, I just want to talk. Give me a call. I’m at my usual hotel if you can stop by for a minute. 

“What’s up?” Alex had himself propped up on his elbows as he stared up at him, squinting just a little bit in the sunlight now that John was no longer blocking his eyes from the worst of it. 

“My father.”

“Ah.” He tucked his legs back up, getting into a sitting position and giving John a careful look. “It was only a matter of time, right?”

“Right,” he responded, voice flat, feeling like the whole uplifting mood from just minutes ago had turned sour in an instant.

He watched as Alex’s lips twisted, unsure, uneasy with this topic of conversation. “Did he say…?” He clearly had no idea how to finish that tactfully and opted to let the end of the question just hang in the air. 

“He wants to talk,” John supplied helpfully. “I’m guessing alone, though he didn’t specify.”

“Yeah, I kind of doubt he’d want me there.” Alex gave him a wry smile. “Are you doing this at your place? I can– I don’t know. Go out to a coffee shop or something. Keep myself busy for a little while until you’re done.”

“No, I think we’re meeting at his hotel. I can let you into the apartment first. You can hang out there, head back here, whatever you want to do.”

“I’ll wait at your place,” he responded, almost too quickly. Reached out a hand as John stood up so he could pull him to his feet as well. Wiped at the back of his shirt and pants to dislodge any dirt from his clothes. “His hotel is near there right?” He continued on after John nodded. “Okay, yeah. I’ll wait there then. That way I’m around when you’re done.”

John could feel the unspoken reasoning. _In case you need support. In case he does or says anything to make you break down again. In case you can’t handle this alone._ “You don’t have to.”

He gave John a smile, a little tight but genuine, and squeezed his hands. “I want to, alright?”

They made their way back to the stairwell, Alex pulling the door open and then repositioning it with the pipe propping it in place again. John couldn’t think of anything to say, though the silence was beginning to suffocate him as they descended the first few steps. Whether for his sake or his own, Alex seemed to pick up on the need for conversation.

“Can you imagine if we go stuck up there? How mad would you have been?”

John let out a quiet breath, a mix of relief and laughter. “Why would I be upset about that? I’m sure we could find plenty to do trapped alone together for a whole afternoon.” 

“I’d become insufferable once my phone died and I had no way to check my emails. I think even _you_ would struggle putting up with me at that point.”

He gave a shrug, deciding it was probably best not to respond too honestly to that. Followed Alex all the way down to the ground floor and out onto the sidewalk, his mind preoccupied with fleeting thoughts of all the different ways this conversation with his father might go. He no longer had the safety net of predictability after all, burning it to flaming bits after breaking the unspoken rules of his relationship with his father. He only hoped the resulting fall, inevitable at this point, would be cushioned enough by all the happier events of the day to keep him from breaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> Leave thoughts in the comments!
> 
> On tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	43. Chapter 43

John glanced around the lobby, familiar enough from the last time he had been there, but it all just felt a little off. As if he was seeing everything underwater, distorted by time and space and the subtle shift in his own mind. He politely waved off the hotel employee who asked if he needed help with anything. Just visiting someone. Made his way to the elevator and pressed the button for the twenty fifth floor, the long ride up only serving to twist his stomach into a knotted mess, but even this felt differently textured than his normal anxiety where his father was concerned. There was a certain background note of hope this time. 

Half his mind was focused on the little numbers next to the doors in the hallway, keeping track until he reached the correct one, the other half was back with Alex where he had kissed him goodbye before leaving his apartment. He wished he was there now. Impersonal as his space often felt, when he was tucked up against Alex’s side on the bed, pressing his face warm and close against his neck, breathing in his scent, it was easy enough to feel like it was a proper home. 

He stopped as his eyes fell on the little numbered plaque by the door. Stared silently at an innocuous hotel door, exactly the same as all the others, concealing rooms filled with countless occupants, countless lives. Countless stories and conversations just like the one he was dreading. He let out a slow exhale and knocked twice before he could lose his courage, small and fleeting as it felt. 

Twist of the door handle, and then his father was there, staring at him for just a couple of seconds, a pause that was slightly too long, but acceptable enough to avoid becoming awkward. John didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. Just stood on the other side of the threshold, waiting, his heart feeling too tight where it beat behind his ribs. 

“Come in, Jack.” 

He held the door wide while John stepped into the suite, hovering just barely inside the space that felt so obviously temporary. As if he was still considering bolting at the slightest provocation. His father turned, arms hanging at his sides, but there was a certain rigidness to his posture, looking for all the world like he was trying and failing to appear casual about this meeting. “Would you like to go first, or should I?”

Some part of his mind, the corner that was conditioned by years of formality and manners, knew that he should defer, but the spark of rebellion from earlier had been smoldering all day, even through everything with Alex earlier, and he let out an indignant huff, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and glaring sharply across the distance between them. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“Care to elaborate?”

John felt his heart pick up speed with resentful heat at the condescension in his words. “Controlling me. Assuming you know what’s _best_ for me.” He breathed a noisy sigh and turned, pacing towards the couch but not sitting. Didn’t have to wait long for his father to follow after him. “God, do you even care if I’m happy?” He turned around to hold his eye contact properly, letting the hurt show through his expression in piercing anger. “You’re so concerned about appearances, mine, your own, the family’s, that you don’t take the time to consider how all of that control actually affects the rest of us. We’re not just political props. The fact that I have my own life, and someone that makes me happy– that shouldn’t be a threat to you.” He pressed his lips together, feeling the sting of teeth when he clenched his jaw too hard, and let the silence fall heavy around the two of them as he waited. 

Without warning, his father dropped down into one of the armchairs, the stiff tension easing out of his muscles somewhat and replaced by a look that was hard to nail down. It could almost be resignation, but John knew his father too well to believe that. “I care if you’re happy, Jack.” He looked up and heaved a sigh, taking in the sight of his son, still standing a few feet away, cheeks flushed pink from his outburst. “I’m just worried you’re more concerned about this momentary excitement than doing what’s best for your life long term.”

“Would you be saying the same thing if I was dating some girl instead?” John snapped with as much fire in his voice as he could manage, his hand gripping tightly against his upper arm. 

“No.” His father’s voice was level, blunt, and John felt a little spike of indignation before he continued. “Because that wouldn’t have the same consequences for you, and you know that.” His brow creased lower as he looked up. “I don’t want this hardship for you. All of the complications and fear and whispers. I’ve only ever wanted you to be successful, to have a good life filled with opportunities. I’m just trying to be realistic, to help, to keep you safe. Isn’t that my job as your father?” 

John felt the righteous anger slip out of him all at once, spilling onto the floor like a puddle, something ugly and dirty now that it was out of him, and he was afraid of stepping in it, sullying his new, more sober mood. He dropped down onto the couch, elbows resting against his knees, staring straight ahead, not quite meeting his father’s eyes but looking in his general direction at the very least. He mulled over the words, trying to digest them, work them into some sort of sense against his own fractionated thoughts. Because this was the rational piece that, before today, his mind always defaulted back to. It was easy enough to forget it in the height of frustration, but John was positive his father didn’t act the way he did due to any lack of care. In fact, the way he tried to guide John’s life was born out of a certain amount of protectiveness, misguided as it was sometimes. Care and control that only descended harder on him after his mother died, when his father was the only one left to look out for him, and when he knew the scrutiny of running for public office would be especially tough on his family. Yes, the level of control may have seemed unreasonable at times, but his father was looking out for all of them. Making sure they knew what to say and do, how to act, to avoid negative attention by the press. To avoid anyone prying harder as they all grieved and dealt with the loss privately, even years after the fact. How could he hold a grudge against someone who was truly trying his best to do what he thought was right?

“Maybe,” he conceded, barely loud enough to hear even though the room itself was quiet. “But you have to let me live my own life too. I can’t keep hiding just because it’s more convenient for you.”

“That’s not what this is about. It’s not because it’s more convenient _for me_ , Jack. I’m looking out for you.”

John took a deep breath trying to keep his voice steady as he continued, feeling the muscles in his jaw start to tense. “It _is_ about you though. About your image. Maybe it’s about my own protection as well, but you can’t deny part of it is about how my actions will affect your political career.”

“Don’t assume you know my intentions,” he shot back, his voice losing the tiny bit of emotional warmth from a moment before so it was just flat. Cold. 

Placing his hands on his knees, John pushed himself back up so he was sitting straight, felt the anger prick under his skin again. They had been _so close_ to something productive. “I know your intentions better than you know what’s best for me. If you don’t want me assuming things, maybe you shouldn’t either.” He leaned back against the cushions, then his mind pulled at a certain thread from earlier and he couldn’t help bringing it up while he was already riled. “Speaking of assuming things, I would appreciate it if you didn’t act so goddamn surprised that Alex has done well for himself.”

His father raised his eyebrows, hand tightening where it rested against his leg for just a moment. “I didn’t say anything to suggest that I expected otherwise.”

“You didn’t _need_ to. God, just the way you talk to him. Your tone. The way you _look_ at him. You did everything short of asking how the hell a poor, brown kid got into Columbia. I guess I should just be thankful you didn’t bring up affirmative action.”

He shifted in his seat, pressing his hands together and tucking them between his knees and leaning forward just slightly, his forehead creased as he gave John a contemplative look. “I’m sorry if it came off that way. It wasn’t my intent, and I truly hope you can believe me on that at least.” 

John just shrugged, staring down at his lap, the motion feeling a little childish, but really what was there to say?

It was quiet for a long time, and John almost thought he would have to make the next move. Or just get up and leave. But eventually his father spoke again, his voice softer, more careful. An edge of raw emotion in his tone that felt unnatural to witness. “I really hope none of you kids think of me like that. I know we don't talk about it much,” he said, pausing to take a deep breath and staring down at his own hands, mirroring John’s posture slightly. “But you kids, your mother, I know it’s not easy to always have to wonder how people will perceive you. Ellie used to tell me all the time when you were younger that it’d be different for you. For all of you. That I’d have to get used to the assumptions people would make. The first time she visited me at work with you and someone assumed she was the nanny rather than my wife, I tried to get the man fired. I feel like I’m not making a lot of sense right now,” he added sheepishly, voice a little strained. When he glanced up again, John met his eyes, his mind swimming half with memories, half with the imagined images his brain used to fill in the gaps where memory failed him. Where he was too young, or too much time had passed, to properly remember. “But I realize, maybe more than you think, how much those unfair perceptions can affect someone. As for Alexander, I’d be surprised if _anyone_ offhandedly mentioned they went to an Ivy League school. It’s impressive that he’s done so well, my disagreements with his outburst at lunch aside, and my surprise was just that– surprise. It wasn’t born of any sort of malicious intent.”

John just stared down hard at his hands, pressed firmly into his thighs now. He didn’t know how to respond. Barely knew how to _think_. The only times he really let his mind wander to thoughts of his mom were late at night, when his brain was buzzing with too many problems and worries and the thought of her voice, her gentle touch rubbing circles into his back was the only thing that could lull him to sleep. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to remember her the rest of the time, just that the memories were too painful, driving him either to overwhelming grief or painful numbness. 

He didn’t feel either of those things now. Just a dull ache, the emotional pull muted, but still _there_. Manageable. He couldn’t tell if it was the situation itself that had caused this shift, or if things really were getting easier to deal with over time. He felt a strange longing for this connection, a shared set of experiences with his mom that he hadn’t even realized he had before now. As his father said, they didn’t talk about it. 

Rather than actually respond to the content of anything that was said, to give his father’s emotions and honesty the weight they deserved with a real response, he just shook his head slow and sad. “I miss her,” he said, his voice sounding tiny to his own ears. 

He didn’t look up to see his father’s face, but he could tell his throat was thick with all the grief and longing that he normally filed away so carefully when he spoke. “Me too. Every day.”

“She wouldn’t want me to hide,” he said, unsure where exactly the words came from, but sure in the moment that they were true. He waited a moment to see if his father would respond, and when he didn’t, John pressed on carefully. “I think you know that. I never got the chance to tell her but–” He cut himself off as his voice cracked with a sharp stab of guilt and shame for all of the unspoken truths that he never shared with his mother, and he cleared his throat to try and cover it. “She was always supportive of whatever I wanted to do. Even if it wasn’t always what _you_ wanted me to do. She wouldn’t want me to take something that makes me so happy and shove it behind closed doors like it’s an awful, dirty secret. She would have wanted more for me than that.”

When he finally chanced looking up, his father’s expression was softer, still guarded, but in a way that let him look in the windows at least, see a tiny portion of how he was actually feeling. He wasn’t sure if it was reassuring or unsettling to see even that small amount of vulnerability. “You said it earlier, Jack,” he finally said, voice quiet. “You’re grown. I can’t tell you what to do. You’re going to make the choices you want to make, and I’m in no position to stop you.”

John’s brow furrowed. This was as close to a surrender as he had gotten, but it still didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like _enough_. “I don’t want you to just... not stop me. I want your support.” He felt almost like he was begging, but he kept going, needing to get the words out while he had the opportunity. “I want to know that my happiness means enough to you that you won’t act ashamed of my existence if a story breaks, and people start asking you questions.”

The suggestion of it itself made his father look intensely uncomfortable, and that hurt, but the blow was softened when he let out a quiet exhale and nodded his head just barely. “I’ll try. Obviously I’d rather not get those questions at all, but I’m not intent on pushing you away. You’re my son, Jack. You’ll always be my son. This is all difficult for me, but it doesn’t change that.” 

John released a shaky breath and swallowed down the raw blend of gratitude and hurt and confusion and the desperate need for that familial bond. To know that things were _okay_ , and that it would all work out in the end no matter what happened. He wanted so badly to be sure his father’s love _was_ unconditional, but even after the heartfelt confessions he still couldn’t completely push away his doubts and was too proud to ask for further reassurance. 

Unsure what else was left to say, and afraid that if he lingered too long they’d get into touchier subjects again, John pulled his phone from his pocket, making a show of checking the time. “I should head out soon. I wanted to pick up dinner on the way back to my place, and Alex is waiting around for me.”

From his spot in the armchair, his father gave him a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Alright. That’s fine.” He paused for a moment, not continuing until John was already standing, assuming they were done with the conversation. “You should bring him with you next time you visit. DC or South Carolina. Alexander that is. I’d like to get to know him better.”

“And I’m sure he’d like to continue discussing that bill with you.” John had to bite his lip to keep from grinning at the thought of it. “I’ll ask him though. Next time I’m planning on visiting. I’d like him to meet everyone, even if I’m sure they’ll all be as terribly annoying about it as they are about anything.” The thought of introducing Alex to his family, the simple domesticity of it, left a smile spreading on his face without a second thought. 

He couldn’t contain the expression even as his father got up from the chair to see him to the door, grip him in a quick hug and then pull back to give him a curious look. “You really do like him, don’t you?” 

John’s mind flashed instantly back to earlier that afternoon, Alex stretched out on the concrete rooftop, sunlight reflecting out of the depths of his eyes and casting a warm glow on his skin. Pressing “I love you’s” and kisses that tasted like promises into every inch of skin that he could reach. “Yeah, I really do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotions!
> 
> Please leave thoughts in the comments! <3
> 
> Over on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls
> 
> Not gonna lie, I'm excited for Henry to go back to DC so I can write about slightly lighter topics for a bit


	44. Chapter 44

Alex glanced at his phone again, resisting the urge to text John. It hadn’t been that long, and everything was probably fine. 

Well, then again. 

Maybe that was a bit too bold of an assumption to make. Even Alex wasn’t so arrogant as to think he had a good enough read on the situation to anticipate how this conversation would go. Part of him itched to head outside, go somewhere, do something, _anything_ besides waiting around. There wasn’t enough to distract him from thinking through the possibilities of how this could end if John’s dad said the wrong thing– if _John_ said the wrong thing. But, well, he told John he’d stay. That he’d be there when he got back, good or bad. So he remained where he was on John’s ridiculously white couch, his socked feet tucked up beside him, staring blankly at his phone screen. 

He almost jumped when a text came through. 

\--Angelica: Did you talk to Eliza yet?? 

_Goddammit._

\--Alex: No been busy

\--Angelica: I’m going to tell her if you don’t.

\--Angelica: I swear Hamilton.

\--Angelica: I’ll do it.

Alex sighed. Rolled his eyes as he typed out his response.

\--Alex: Chill

\--Alex: I’m going to tell her 

\--Alex: Seriously don’t say anything yet

\--Angelica: ...fine. Hurry up though. 

Alex stared at the screen for another minute, then switched over to a new message, using the contact number Angelica had put into his phone. He typed out the beginning of a message and deleted it several times before finally pressing send. 

\--Alex: Hey it’s Alex. Angelica gave me your number, hope that’s okay

He waited expectantly, staring down at his phone. Wasn’t quite sure why, but he had kind of thought she’d respond right away. When there was still no response after about a minute, he put his phone down on the couch and leaned back into the soft cushions, closing his eyes. Considered grabbing his laptop, getting some work done while he waited for John to come back, but he didn’t want to be too absorbed in anything in case he arrived at the apartment upset or angry and needed to talk. He took a deep breath, and let it out as a sigh, stretching his arms up over his head. 

When he heard his phone buzz, he snatched it up right away, desperate for something to distract him, swiping up to unlock the screen. 

\--Eliza: Hey :)

\--Eliza: What’s up?

\--Alex: We haven’t talked since the party. We should get lunch or coffee or something and catch up. My treat 

She didn’t respond right away, so he switched over to a news app on his phone, scrolling through article headlines, trying to see if anything spiked his interest, but his mind was too preoccupied to hone in on anything. Finally, a response showed at the top of his screen.

\--Eliza: Sure. Name a time and place

\--Eliza: I’ll let you know if I can make it!

\--Alex: Angelica was telling me about a coffee place on 8th and 52nd- you know if it’s any good?

While he waited for her response, he switched over to Twitter, wondering vaguely if John’s dad had one of those official blue checkmark accounts. He searched his name, accidentally hitting enter before he could click on the profile in the autofilled dropdown. He was about to click on the account that showed up first in the search– blue checkmark and all– when something else lower down in the results caught his eye. 

_Shit._ His eyes grew wide as he scrolled down, and he forgot to breathe for what had to be at least a full minute, maybe longer.

“Fuck!” He punched his free hand into the back of the couch, hard enough to shake the wall behind him. 

As he stared down at the tweet, a picture, clearly taken discreetly from somebody’s phone, he ran a hand over his face and back through his hair. The angle wasn’t great, but enough of John’s face was visible, his body tangled up with Alex’s as he shoved his tongue into his mouth against the brick wall outside the restaurant. The caption some dumb inflammatory comment questioning whether Senator Lauren’s son was gay. 

Shit. 

Alex took a shaky breath and tried to evaluate his options. First and foremost, he knew he had to get rid of that tweet. _Fuck._ He was so angry his hands were shaking when he tapped the report button, hoping against reasonable expectation that this would be a quick process. Filled out some bullshit form about _why_ he wanted the tweet taken down, knowing that all the while the chance of people seeing it was only increasing. The one silver lining was that the poster seemed to be a relative nobody. Staring at his profile, Alex could see he had barely any followers, and the tweet itself only had a few likes. He also had a decent amount of identifying information– location, where he went to school. Alex took a screenshot for reference and then hovered his finger over the message button for a moment, considering. He was about to click it when he was startled out of his thoughts by a text notification. 

Feeling absurbdly like something so _ordinary_ as a text shouldn’t be allowed right now, he clicked over. 

\--Eliza: Oh yeah, it’s wonderful! That sounds perfect. Let me know what time works for you

He blinked a few times, having a hard time comprehending the words, trying to wrap his head around what they had even been talking about. Couldn’t think of how to respond, so instead he switched to his messages with John, hesitated for just a moment, indecisive, before typing.

\--Alex: Hey. You coming back soon? 

The response came through almost immediately, and despite the circumstances Alex couldn’t help but smile. 

\--John: Hey! Yeah just picking up dinner. Waiting for the order now. Pizza okay?

\--Alex: Yeah that’s fine 

He thought about telling him. Knew that he _should_. 

But from what little he could tell based on the tone of the text, John actually seemed to be okay right now. If whatever went down with his dad wasn’t breaking apart his good mood, then Alex was pretty sure he was still basking in the glow of everything that happened earlier in the afternoon between the two of them, and he couldn’t bring himself to ruin that just yet. 

\--Alex: I’ll see you soon <3 

He groaned, letting the hand with his phone in it fall to his lap and dropping his head heavily against the back of the couch. _Fuck._ This was so _goddamn unfair_. Just when things were maybe starting to turn around, of course someone had to fuck it up. He brought his phone up to eye level again, holding it above his head with both hands and swiping the screen open, pulling up the tweet, still there, a couple more likes since the last time he saw it. _Fuck._

The more he stared, the quicker his heart pounded. He could feel his blood running hot, his anger at this one dumbass on the internet, because who _does_ something like this? Who sees someone minding their own business and just decides to be a total ass about it and ruin their life? He tapped the message button at the top of the profile to message him, no hesitation this time as he typed out a scathing, several-paragraph-long argument on why he was the world’s biggest dick. Hit send without even giving it a read through and then tossed his phone at the other end of the couch, still fuming. He got up abruptly, wishing more than ever that he hadn’t promised to be here when John got back because he _needed_ to clear his head. He turned on the coffee machine, started the process of brewing a cup for himself, more for something to keep him occupied than because his body needed the caffeine. He already felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin from the frustration alone. 

When it was done, he grabbed the mug and headed over to stand in front of the floor to ceiling windows, staring out at the city, thinking about how fucking unlucky it was that out of the millions of people walking around out there, one of them just _had_ to be the worst human being on the planet. 

The thought struck him suddenly– completely unwelcome in his brain– that he might have done the same thing if it were someone else. To prove a point against the bigoted hypocrisy of a government official. Of course he was angry it had happened to _John_ , but that other guy didn’t know the two of them. All he knew was that Senator Laurens sided with the rest of the republican party when it came to policy, and that included gay rights, or lack thereof. Could Alex really blame him for trying to drag him through the mud given the opportunity? 

The thought wasn’t enough for him to take back his words, but it _was_ enough to make him think, make him simmer in his own confused, self-loathing a little bit. He was still pissed at the guy, of course. After all, he hadn’t thought through the consequences of what that damn tweet could do to John. Had viewed John much like his own father did at times– a political pawn– not a real person with his own feelings and private life. But Alex couldn’t bring himself to pretend, if the positions were reversed, that he would have thought through all of that either before speaking out.

He turned quickly, an irrational spike of guilt rising in his chest, as the door opened. John was balancing a pizza box in one hand as he tucked his keys back in his pocket, kicking off his shoes and letting the door slam closed behind him. “Hey,” he said with a smile, making his way to the kitchen island to deposit the pizza. “I got sausage, hope that’s okay.”

Alex couldn’t even fathom eating at the moment. His appetite was at the bottom of a deep pit along with the joy from their afternoon on his rooftop. But he forced himself to nod anyway. “Yeah, that’s fine. How did it go?” Because to John the biggest thing happening right now was the conversation he just had with his father, and maybe it was _still_ the biggest thing happening and nothing would come of the tweet. Maybe it would get deleted before anyone of importance saw it and everything would be fine. 

“It went well I think,” John said, leaning forward against the island on his forearms as Alex made his way over. “You know, not perfect. I wasn’t expecting perfect though, and it seems like he’s going to at least try.” He shrugged, but underneath a layer of self consciousness he seemed pleased. “I think it was productive at least.” 

Alex forced a small smile as he grabbed a couple of plates, handing one off to John. He pulled one of the slices apart from the rest of them, his mind still far removed from the conversation. “That’s good. Glad it went well.”

John gave him a questioning look– shit maybe he wasn’t doing as good a job covering his distraction up as he thought– but didn’t ask any questions. Just took a couple slices for himself and dropped down onto one of the barstools. Alex followed his lead, sitting down beside him and taking a bite. It tasted like ash in his mouth, and he had to focus on each bite as he forced the food down. It wasn’t until John had started on his second slice that he finally brought it up. “What’s up, Alex? You’re quiet. You’re _never_ quiet. Is this still about my father? I know he was kind of a jerk earlier, but I didn’t want him to go back home while I was still pissed off.” 

Alex shook his head, trying to make sense of the words when they were so incredibly off base. “No. Well, yes. I guess? In a way? I don’t know.”

“Alex?” John reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “You’re worrying me. What’s wrong?” 

He couldn’t bring himself to say what had happened out loud, so he hopped up from the barstool, crossed the room and grabbed his phone where he had tossed it earlier, still resting innocently against the couch cushion. As he started to make his way back to the kitchen he unlocked the screen, pulled up the profile again. One look at the page and he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes going wide with alarm. _“Fuck.”_

John jumped up, making his way over in a few quick strides. “Alex, seriously, what’s going on?” He tried to angle himself to see the screen, but Alex tilted it away, still trying to take it in himself. 

The original tweet had, in fact, been taken down. But now it was replaced by a screenshot of the furious message Alex had sent the guy, captioned, “so Senator Laurens’s son IS gay and his boyfriend isn’t very happy I posted a picture of them”. It must have been spread by someone with a bigger following, because it was rapidly gaining likes and retweets. 

“Fuck,” he repeated, softer this time, though edged with panic. “John, I’m sorry, I fucked up. I didn’t mean to. Some asshole–” 

John snatched the phone out of his hand, his eyes quickly scanning the tweet, then reading line by line of the screenshot. Alex watched as his face paled, his expression somewhere between angry and terrified. “Fuck, Alex.” 

Alex flinched at the tone, sharper than he expected, and grabbed his phone as John thrust it back at him. 

_“What did you do?”_

Even though the question was clearly rhetorical, Alex couldn’t help defending himself against the accusation. “I was trying to help! That asshole posted a picture of the two of us with some stupid caption, and I was worried it was going to get spread around–”

“So you gave him a reason to bite back even harder!” John ran a hand over his face, staring somewhere behind Alex, not meeting his eyes. “And you gave him more _proof_! And a name to connect to the random person in some shitty picture that we could have denied was real in the first place. We could have claimed it was photoshopped or something.” Alex grew increasingly aware as he spoke that the _we_ he was referring to was not in fact the two of them, but rather John and his father. And probably whoever handled publicity for the senator. 

“So, what?” Alex demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Was everything you said earlier just some adrenaline-rush fueled bullshit to try and get under your dad’s skin? If that picture did publicly out you, were you going to deny it? Pretend it was all just a baseless attack against your dad’s character?”

John let out a tense exhale, turning back towards the kitchen and then leaning his neck back to stare up helplessly at the ceiling. “I don’t know what I would have done, okay? I wasn’t lying earlier about maybe being ready to take things public, but I don’t want it to happen like that. Like _this_ ,” he added, motioning towards Alex’s phone. _“Fuck.”_ He dropped his head back down and ran a hand over his face. “I should call my father. He should know. I’m sure he’s going to hear about it eventually anyway.” 

“John, I’m _sorry_ ,” Alex said, feeling like he was desperately grasping for that bliss from earlier, wanting to pull them out of this chaos and back to a place where they could _enjoy_ being bold and a little reckless for once. “I didn’t mean to mess things up. I was just so angry, and I needed to say _something_.”

The look on his face was pained when he finally turned around and made eye contact with Alex again. “I know.” He sighed, long and drained. “I love you.” It sounded more like a hollow reassurance than the declarations they had spoken on the roof just hours ago. “But I need to go take care of this now, alright?” Before Alex could even respond, John had the door to his bedroom closed behind him, and his muffled voice was just barely loud enough to be heard through the walls. Alex couldn’t make out the words.

He dropped back down onto the couch, the guilt and frustration like lead in his stomach as he checked the steadily rising stats on the tweet one more time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back with more drama <3 
> 
> Leave comments down below for me please
> 
> I'm over on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	45. Chapter 45

After about five minutes of waiting, sitting around while John talked to his dad in the other room, Alex felt ready to jump out of his skin. After _ten_ minutes, he finally got up from the couch, shrugged on one of John’s light jackets that was hanging by the door, and headed out towards the elevator. Sent off a quick text, letting him know that he just needed some air, that he’d be back and could text him if he needed anything. While his phone was out, his eyes were drawn to the notifications piling in from Twitter. Pulled up the settings and muted it, not eager for _that_ reminder right now.

At first he headed towards Central Park, but changed direction at the last minute. It wasn’t quiet that he needed right now. He needed the chaotic noise of the city, of people crowding the sidewalks, tourists meandering and pointing while locals hurried past them, of car horns and street vendors and a million other sounds making up the backdrop of Manhattan. He needed something to drown out the useless buzzing of his thoughts, desperate to do _something_ to help fix the mess he had gotten himself into, but knowing there was nothing he could do right now that wouldn’t risk plunging him further into trouble. 

He went south instead, through the neighborhood their office was in, then further, past restaurants and shops and endless crowds of people. He knew there was no way to physically escape the problem he had created, but if he walked far enough, maybe he would feel a little better. 

When his phone buzzed in his pocket, he pulled it out right away, expecting John. 

It wasn’t John though.

\--Eliza: Anyway how’s your weekend going?

Alex stopped, stepping over to the side out of habit to make sure he wasn’t blocking anyone, and stared down at the screen. Just like earlier, the normalcy of the question itself felt surreal. But maybe normalcy would be welcome right now. 

\--Alex: Kind of shitty tbh 

\--Alex: Are you busy at the moment?

He waited, staring down at the screen as people walked past. 

\--Eliza: I’m free

\--Eliza: Do you want to get that coffee now?

He worried his lower lip between his teeth as he considered his response. 

\--Alex: Can I meet you at your apartment? I want to talk about something, and I don’t want to do it in a coffee shop

\--Alex: If not that’s fine of course I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything

\--Eliza: Sure. Peggy’s here right now, is that okay?

Alex took a deep breath, then let it out all at once, loud and rushed. Sure. Why not tell Peggy too while he was at it? She’d find out eventually anyway. 

\--Alex: Yeah that’s fine

\--Alex: What’s your address?

A couple of seconds later she dropped a pin, and Alex could see that her apartment wasn’t too far. He turned around, started heading back closer to the river. 

\--Alex: Be there in like 15?

\--Eliza: Alright I’ll meet you in the lobby

\--Eliza: See you soon!

The walk felt quicker than it should have. His mind was still buzzing with a million thoughts and worries, and he didn’t even get a proper chance to think through what it was he was even _doing_ going to Eliza’s apartment when he realized he was already on her block. Part of him wanted to turn and run, but he had already dug himself in this deep, might as well go through with it. 

Eliza’s building was as nice looking as John’s, a newer construction with clean lines and large windows, obviously designed for those with money, and in a different mood he might be inclined to gawk at the chandelier hanging in the lobby, but with all of the distractions in his head he didn’t really see any of it. Felt lucky that he even noticed Eliza, standing a little to the side of the doors. 

“Alex! Hey!” She hurried over in a few quick steps, wrapping him in a brief but tight hug. Looked like she was about to say something as she pulled back, but stopped as she took in his expression. He wondered if he really looked _that_ visibly miserable. “Is everything okay?”

The words raised a swell of heat and emotion up in his chest, and it took a minute to realise that he wasn’t used to people asking if he was okay. And maybe she wouldn’t be asking that if she knew the whole story, but it felt nice to have someone not assume the worst of him for once. He was afraid of how his voice would sound if he tried to say anything, the stress and grief from the day and the gratitude of the moment all thick in his throat, so he just shrugged. 

After watching him carefully for another moment, Eliza took just a tiny step closer, turning towards the elevators. “Do you want to go upstairs? It may not be as good as the place you mentioned, but I have coffee.”

Alex took a deep breath, doing his best to keep it steady. “Yeah,” he said, the word coming out dry. He cleared his throat as they made their way across the lobby. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The elevator ride up was suspiciously quiet. Like Eliza was trying very hard _not_ to ask what was bothering him. Alex was grateful for the extra time to gather his thoughts, but he still had absolutely no idea what the right thing to say was in this situation by the time they got to her floor. 

As they walked in the door to the apartment, he realized he shouldn’t have bothered worrying about that anyway. Peggy was in his face almost as the door opened and– oh yeah, he had forgotten Peggy was here– shoved a phone into his face, ruining any need for a segue into the topic of his relationship with John. “This is you, right?” He snatched it out of her hand, glancing down at _the_ tweet. The goddamn tweet that just wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone. Angled the screen away from Eliza as he gathered his thoughts. 

“Yeah,” he answered. No point in lying. It was pretty obvious it was him after all. His account was visible in the screenshot. 

“What the _fuck_ , Alex?””

Eliza leaned over more insistently now, trying to see what was on the screen. “What is it?” She stepped closer, so Alex took a step away, holding the phone outstretched even further on his other side. 

“It’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said, hesitance and regret filtering through his tone. He glanced at Peggy who was not bothering to hold back any of her curiosity now that she had her confirmation. Alex sighed, knowing if he didn’t fess up, she’d likely just blurt it out anyway. 

“Here.” He passed the phone to Eliza, watching wearily as she started reading. “I wanted to get together and tell you about this– about me and John– mostly to make sure you didn’t get the wrong idea at the party. I really do like you, Eliza. I had such a good time hanging out with you at Lafayette’s and I really want to be friends, and I just wanted to make sure I didn’t _entirely_ fuck that up. And then this whole fiasco happened earlier today and just… it’s been a hell of a day. And now I’m pretty sure I’m doing this all wrong, and I feel like shit for that. It’s just…” He glanced at Peggy, watching their conversation with rapt attention, and felt a rush of self conscious embarrassment that he tried to push past. “I don’t know, I know I was kind of… _affectionate_ … at the party, and I just wanted to make sure we were okay, and that I didn’t give you the wrong impression or anything.”

Eliza’s expression had grown increasingly serious throughout his little speech, and now that he finally finished, she just stared for a moment, a frown tugging at her lips and creasing her forehead. Peggy was blessedly silent, though her brows had shot up practically to her hairline, and now she just kept looking between the two of them, watching the drama unfold like a soap opera. 

When she finally seemed to gather herself, Eliza passed Peggy her phone, who accepted with an outstretched hand, refusing to look away from the tense situation in front of her as she shoved it back into the pocket of her jeans. 

“Alex,” Eliza started, then glanced back at Peggy again. “Um, would you rather have this conversation in private?”

“Please,” he agreed quickly, feeling the stress ease out of shoulders a bit. At least she wasn’t yelling at him. Not that he expected _Eliza_ of all people to get angry and raise her voice, but the day had been full of surprises. 

“Hey,” Peggy griped. “You can’t say all _that_ and then leave me hanging out here.” She crossed her arms, pouting at the two of them.

Eliza stepped over and patted her on the arm. “Go watch Netflix or something. I’m sure you can find something else to satisfy your craving for drama. Better yet, call Angelica. I’m pretty sure one of her friends from law school is dating their professor.”

“You suck.” She stuck out her tongue, but then grinned and headed down a hall to what must have been her room. The silence that followed after the door closed behind her was awkward and thick, and they both just stared for a moment. 

“So–” Alex started, but he was cut off.

“Here, let’s go to my room so we don’t get interrupted again.” She smiled, seemingly trying to reassure him because it felt more forced than genuine. She took a step towards a hallway opposite the one Peggy went down and then waited, making sure he was following. 

“Uh, okay. Sure.” He trailed behind, feeling like for some reason this wasn’t allowed. Which was _ridiculous_. He came here specifically to tell Eliza that he _wasn’t_ interested, so why should being alone in her room with just the two of them make that guilt start to creep back in again? 

Maybe for the same reason that he had avoided texting John to let him know where he was. 

He took a deep breath, glancing at colorful canvas paintings on the wall as they went. The space itself was just as nice as John’s apartment, maybe even nicer, but it felt more personable too. There were a million tiny accents making it clear who lived there and showing off facets of the girls’ personalities. The type of thing that John’s apartment was completely devoid of. 

Eliza’s bedroom, like an extension of the rest of the apartment, was a showcase of who she was. Decorated in soft pink and navy blue. Natural light shining through sheer curtains. Plants scattered around the room, on shelves and the dresser and the large white desk in the corner. Mirrors making the space seem even bigger, and a hanging light fixture in the middle of the ceiling. The parts of the room that most drew Alex’s eye were knick knacks and pictures of smiling faces on the walls and shelves, snapshots of a happy life, the kind he had longed for ever since his mother had gotten sick and passed away. He stared at them now, trying to imagine how his life would have turned out if he had grown up like _this_ instead. One particular photograph caught his eye, Eliza and her sisters– she was maybe about thirteen years old– awkward, gangly, and beaming at the camera on top of a mountain, arms around Angelica and Peggy in a tight hold. He stepped a little closer, touching the side of the frame. 

Eliza cleared her throat as she closed the door behind them. 

“Sorry,” he said quickly, dropping his hand and turning back towards her. “It’s a cute picture.”

She breathed a soft laugh, diffusing momentary tension with ease. “I was in middle school at that point. I don’t think I’ve ever looked _less_ cute, but thanks.”

Alex grinned, shaking his head. “Nah, you were a cute kid. _Peggy_ on the other hand. What kind of haircut is that…?”

Eliza laughed again, grinning now as well. “You’re just saying that because she called you out, and you’re mad at her.”

He shrugged, willing to admit that was at least half of the reason. “It _is_ a bad cut on her. It makes her face look weird.”

“She was twelve. Her face _did_ look weird.” 

“Ha. Fair enough.” The silence settled around them again, and Alex stared down at his hands. Started picking at a hangnail as he spoke. “So, are we good…?”

He didn’t look up, but he could hear Eliza sigh heavily as she sat down at the edge of her bed atop a soft looking navy blue comforter. “We haven’t really even talked about it, Alex. You said you wanted to tell me about it before that disaster of a screenshot was put out there, so what were you going to say _before_ all of this happened?”

He struggled with the words for a moment. What _had_ he been going to say? Everything before this morning seemed so far off at this point, like he was trying to make out a distant shore across a patch of fog, and no matter how much he squinted he could only form a vague image. He glanced around, feeling uncomfortable to still be standing now that she wasn’t, and pulled out the chair from her desk, sitting down and turning so he was facing her again, though still not quite meeting those dark, curious eyes. 

“I guess just that I’m sorry if anything I did or said came off the wrong way? I like you. A lot.” He paused to take a breath, intending to keep going but before he could–

“I like you a lot too, Alex.” When he looked up at her face, there was a sort of sad resignation there. _Shit._

He ran a hand back through his hair, feeling his heart pounding a little bit too fast. “Sorry. I feel like I’m fucking up here. Just– you’re a good person and I enjoyed hanging out with you, and I’d really like to be friends. And I hope I didn’t mess that up by acting the way I did.”

“By flirting with me, you mean?”

He felt his face go red, defensive over the same conversation that he had been through too many goddamn times at this point. “I wasn’t.”

She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t look _upset_ at least. “Alex, it’s fine. I’m guessing you were already with John at that point?”

He cringed at the implication when combined with her previous question, but nodded. “Yeah. It was kind of a rough night for us.”

“Ah, is that the reason you disappeared?”

“Yeah.” He thought back to that night, lying on Lafayette’s bed side by side, the initial fear and then relief as he realized things were going to be okay. It seemed so long ago. 

“Look, I’m not going to lie to you.” Eliza leveled her gaze at him, and he held eye contact this time even though it felt uncomfortable. “It seems to me like you handled that whole night pretty poorly. I’m not sure exactly what was going on with you and John, and I’m not going to make you tell me, but you had to have known how you were coming off.” She raised her brows a little. “You _were_ flirting, Alex. And I don’t know if that was to make John jealous or to blow off steam or test the waters in case things with your relationship didn’t work out, but whatever it was, you can’t just treat other people like your actions don’t have consequences.”

He felt the guilt rise hot in his cheeks and along his spine. Itched to cross his arms in his usual self protective gesture, but forced himself to leave them where they were, hands pressed into his lap. The worst part about those soft, insistent words was he wasn’t even entirely sure whether parts of her guesswork were true or not. After all, he _had_ made John jealous, and he had definitely wanted to blow off steam, and as for the last part… well. It’s not like it hadn’t crossed his mind. John had even pointed it out, in his anger and frustration, how sensible of a match they would make if it weren’t for him. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for that. I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you or something, Eliza. And, well, it’s not like you have to worry about me acting like an ass because no one knows about me and John anymore. That ship has sailed apparently.” 

She gave him a wry smile, leaned back on her hands, staring up towards the ceiling. “True.” After a brief pause she looked back down at him, her expression softening. “How’s John dealing with that by the way?”

 _Shit._ How long had it been since he had left the apartment? He probably should have checked in before now. Probably should have made sure the conversation with his dad went okay. Probably should have made sure _he_ was okay. “He’s not thrilled.” Alex shrugged, slouching back into the chair. “He was talking to his dad on the phone when I left.”

Eliza sat up straighter at that, pushing her weight off of her hands and staring at Alex in wide-eyed disbelief. “Wait, you were with him when this blew up and you just _left_?”

“He was busy,” Alex argued weakly, sinking even further into the back of the chair as if that would shield him from judgement. 

_“Alex!”_

“He was busy! He was talking to his dad, probably about what PR angle to take or something, and I needed to get some air, clear my head.” 

“You’re inside,” she pointed out dryly. 

“Yeah, this was an impulsive decision.”

“Clearly.”

She watched him from across the room, her deep eyes concerned, questioning. Despite everything, Alex still felt like he could get lost in those eyes, and yeah, this was probably not the best idea on _today_ of all days. He took a deep breath, closing his own eyes. He loved John. He knew he did. At least he was almost completely sure he did, and for all he knew he’d never be more sure of that fact, so that was _probably enough_ to say that he knew he loved John. 

“You should go back and make sure he’s okay.”

He blinked his eyes open, sitting up straighter and meeting her gaze. Answering against the tug in his heart that said staying here would be easier because– like he had told John the night of the party– he never did do well with easy. “Yeah.” He stood from the chair, glancing back at her as she got up as well. “We’re okay, right?” 

She gave him that sad smile again, and he felt his heart squeeze behind his ribs, painfully constricted by guilt and a reluctant acknowledgement of his own feelings for Eliza, even if they were nowhere close to what he had with John. It still hurt to see that look and know it was his fault. “Yeah, Alex. We’re okay.” 

He nodded, pressing his lips together. “Okay.”

She walked him to the door, but once they left her room, she didn’t bring up the conversation again. Just wished him good luck and gave him a quick hug that left him feeling warm and guilty and confused as he walked down the hall to the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hot minute! Welcome back!
> 
> Leave me some comments with your thoughts 
> 
> I'm over on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls, so come hang out over there too


	46. Chapter 46

John was out in the living room, waiting anxiously on the couch, when Alex got back. Since he had hung up the call with his father, he had felt a gnawing pit of worry in his stomach that had nothing to do with accidentally being outed to the entire world via Twitter. With the benefit of hindsight, he had started to feel guilty at how immediately he had shut down Alex after finding out. After all, he _had_ been trying to stick up for him, and if John had just agreed to go public with their relationship months ago, none of this would be happening. There wouldn’t _be_ a story to uncover. They would have had a chance to be together on their own terms, rather than paraded out on the internet as a leaked secret shame to taint his father’s political career. And obviously Alex had been stressed and guilt-ridden over the whole situation and instead of reassuring him that they’d get through it, he had shut him out completely. He had read over his text multiple times since he got off the phone. Alex needed air, was going for a walk. But that had been a while ago now, and he hadn’t heard anything from him since. 

So the relief that washed over him when Alex finally walked back through the door was nearly overwhelming.

“Hey!” John was up before the door could close behind him, pulling Alex into a tight hug, breathing in the crisp fall air still clinging to him. “Missed you,” he sighed into Alex’s hair where his face rested. “You alright?”

Alex pulled back from the embrace, his brows pulled together in confusion. “Am _I_ alright? I should be asking you that.”

John just shrugged, for the moment too relieved to feel much else. “I’m fine. It’s not like this is the first time anything from my personal life has been leaked to the public.” He had compartmentalized his life here in New York pretty well so far, but he couldn’t entirely block out the memories of local papers back home picking up stories, private bits of information that they had no right to, but snatched up anyway like the starved vultures they were. “You were gone a while,” he pointed out, not eager to get into that bit of his own past. “Did the walk help?” 

“I went to Peggy and Eliza’s apartment,” Alex blurted out in lieu of an actual answer. 

“Oh.” John didn’t know how else to respond. He tried to push away the spike of jealousy, knowing that he had _no reason_ for such a visceral reaction based on that sentence alone. Regardless, the thought of Alex over at Eliza’s place, spending time with the Schuylers while he dealt with the fallout of everything alone, insistently urging his father that they weren’t going to _deny_ anything… it didn’t sit well with him. 

“John,” Alex started, worry apparent in his face at the one word response. “I just wanted to let them know. Before everything got out there.”

“Why?”

Alex looked taken aback. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that question. “What do you mean _why_?”

“You don’t owe them an explanation, Alex.” He could hear his own tone slipping into something more irritated, and he tried to remind himself of how bad he had felt about his initial dismissiveness towards Alex’s feelings just moments ago. It was hard over the sound of his own heart throbbing in his ears. 

“I know I don’t _owe_ them anything, John.” He stepped around him, taking a seat at one of the stools in the kitchen and running a hand over his face. “Look, I knew I had acted like an ass at Lafayette’s party, and I wanted to make sure I had a chance to talk and explain things to Eliza before she was able to jump to her own conclusions. Okay?”

John deflated a bit because it made sense. He knew it did. He was sure if _he_ was in Eliza’s position, he’d appreciate an explanation too. Imagining himself in her shoes didn’t do much to help his jealousy, but it helped to remind himself that _he_ was the one up with Alex on the roof earlier that day. Reminded himself of the soft words and gentle touches and too-short bliss. He joined Alex, dropping down into the stool next to him and leaning his weight forward onto his elbows against the kitchen island. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… I don’t know. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah.” Alex shifted in his seat, tugged at the sleeve of John’s jacket, just a little bit too big on him. “You want to go out and get some drinks? Try and decompress? It’s Saturday,” he added unnecessarily. 

The offer was tempting, but the phone conversation from earlier was still ringing in his ears. He bit at the inside of his cheek, teeth digging in a little too hard. “My father suggested it’d be a good idea to lay low for a few days and well… it’s not a bad idea.”

“You want to hide?” Alex’s voice was somehow simultaneously flat and challenging, and he felt the responding spark of indignation take hold in his chest. 

“It’s not _hiding_. Fuck, Alex. I just don’t want to deal with questions from random assholes, or someone trying to get a picture, or whatever. The story’s out there now, and it’s only a matter of time before people come looking to capitalize on the moment.”

“So what? We just avoid going out forever? Bunker down in your apartment because the outside world is filled with assholes?”

John let out a frustrated breath. “A few days, Alex. Not forever. Just long enough for my father’s office to release an official statement and for people to move onto the next piece of news that grabs their attention.”

Alex still looked annoyed, but he didn’t argue this time. “Yeah, okay. Fine.” He shifted on the stool, staring down at his hands and grasping for where to go from there. “Want to have a movie night here or something then? You have rum right? I could make us some drinks, popcorn. We could have a night in instead.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Rum’s in the liquor cabinet.” Ever since Alex started staying over he’d made sure to keep a bottle of his favorite stocked, and he was glad for that now. He watched as Alex got up, started to rummage through the different bottles.

“I still think it’s ridiculous that you _have_ a liquor cabinet. You don’t even drink that much, and when you do it’s usually beer. What’s the point?” His voice had changed over to something more playful now, teasing. Seemingly determined to bury any remnants of their previous conversation. The sudden shift in tone nearly gave John whiplash. 

He shrugged, watching from his barstool, still leaning against the cool stone of the countertop, trying to force his brain to catch up with the changing topics. “It looks nicer than just leaving shit out, or shoving bottles in the fridge or something.” He eyed Alex as he brought the rum over with a couple of glasses and then started searching through the fridge. “You know you’re going to have to get used to stuff like that when you become all important and famous, right? Pretentious furniture kind of comes with the territory.”

“Mmm yeah, well. I’ve still got years before I become a rich asshole. Feel free to call me out on my hypocrisy when the time comes.” He put the lemon and orange juice down on the counter, then stared down at both bottles, shook his head to himself and headed back to the liquor cabinet to grab the cocktail shaker. “Forgot this,” he told John, holding it up. “See, if you just had it in the kitchen, where it logically belongs, it’d be a lot less back and forth.” 

“Was the walk across the apartment really that taxing for you?” John teased, leaning one elbow more heavily on the island and propping his chin in his hand. Tried to force his thoughts into this safer realm, follow Alex’s lead and shove the rest of their problems away. He could deal with them later. Once they’d had time to breathe for a few minutes. 

“That’s not the _point_ , you jerk.” Alex was grinning now as he dropped a few ice cubes in the shaker, then started in on the other ingredients. John watched as he mixed the contents and carefully poured them each a glass, trying his best to get the levels almost even. Passed one across the countertop. “So, any idea what movie we should watch?”

“We can just scroll through Netflix I guess?” 

“Sounds good to me.” 

  
  
By the end of the movie– some comedy with B-list actors that had shown up near the top of his recommended movies– Alex had fallen asleep in his lap, his chest rising and falling shallowly and the side of his face pressed to John’s thigh. 

John smiled down at him as the credits rolled on the screen, then carefully, slowly, reached over to grab his phone from the coffee table. Double checked that he hadn’t woken Alex in the process. He needed the sleep if he had actually managed to drift off out here on the couch, and it had been a long day for both of them.

He checked his notifications with a certain amount of trepidation. The movie had been a nice reprieve from thinking about everything else going on, and he hadn’t wanted to worry Alex too much– he worried enough on his own– but there was no way to completely ignore everything, so he skimmed through a couple of messages from his father. Updates. His office had already received calls, requests for comment. Had shut them all down so far, but that didn’t stop the reporters from running a story on the meager facts that they _did_ have. John had silenced his phone completely before the movie started, a handful of numbers he didn’t recognize showing up in his missed calls. How did they even get his number? But then he noticed a voicemail with a contact attached– Lafayette. Shit. 

He played back the message, a somewhat worried but brief request to get back to him, then pulled up his texts.

\--John: Hey sorry phone was on silent

\--John: Guessing you saw……?

\--Lafayette: Are you okay????? 

He stared down at the screen for a solid minute, unsure how to answer that. He had been functioning more or less on autopilot since he found out. Damage control mode. Had spent the afternoon and evening making sure everyone _else_ was okay. His father, his family. Trying to act like things were _normal_ once Alex got back so he didn’t over analyze his own mistakes. He honestly had no idea _how_ he was feeling at this point. But he didn’t really want to get into it with Lafayette so–

\--John: Yeah I’m fine

\--Lafayette: It’s okay if you’re not

John let out a frustrated huff at the almost immediate reply, then glanced down again to make sure he hadn’t woken Alex. He shifted in John’s lap, made a quiet, sleepy noise, but then settled back into a comfortable position, his breathing evening out again.

\--John: I said I’m fine. Drop it. 

\--Lafayette: ...okay. Do you want me to come over? To talk or just help distract you?

He considered it for a moment. It would be nice to keep his mind occupied, but Alex looked _very_ tired, and he knew if Lafayette came over, he’d insist on staying up at least until he left. 

\--John: Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow? I’ll text you 

\--Lafayette: Alright

\--Lafayette: Also is Alex is with you? He’s not picking up either

John glanced down into his lap at Alex’s slack face. Couldn’t fight the soft smile that sprang to his lips.

\--John: Yeah he’s asleep right now. I’ll tell him you were trying to get in touch

\--Lafayette: Alright good. Let me know if you need anything

\--John: Thanks

Against his better judgement, John opened Twitter. He had a ridiculous amount of notifications for someone who hadn’t been involved in the original altercation at all. Didn’t check any of them. Just pulled up the account of the asshole who posted the screenshot from his recent search history. Checked the stats on the tweet. In just a few hours it had gone from a couple hundred likes and retweets to thousands, as well as countless replies. He scrolled down, morbid curiosity seeming to force his movements. It was a chaotic mess of varying responses. From supportive, to mocking, to questioning the integrity of the poster. A majority of them seemed to hone in on his father and the hypocrisy of a Republican senator claiming to be a family man while supporting legislation that would harm his own gay son. Annoying, but expected. Most of the people who mentioned Alex’s role at all in the whole thing seemed to think he was justified in his overzealous response. _Good_. He didn’t need random strangers attacking both his boyfriend and his family on the internet. 

He tried not to think too much about the commenters speculating when his father would make an official statement. They had already spent far too long discussing it on the phone. There were a few questioning whether his father even knew. And then, because this was the internet after all, a good handful of replies using derogatory language, slinging around inflammatory words and phrases. Trying to provoke a response, and succeeding in most cases. He let out a deep, strained breath and switched over to his messages again. Sent a quick reply to his father’s latest text and then switched over to the internet to look up flights to South Carolina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know the party was a long scene, but this _one day_ has officially gone on for 8 chapters now. The boys are exhausted with this day and so am I!
> 
> Please leave comments for me down below! 
> 
> As per always, I'm over on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	47. Chapter 47

“Do you want to come to South Carolina with me?”

They were sitting at the kitchen island, Alex and John both working their way through platefuls of breakfast. Alex had started preparing the food before John even woke up, unable to sleep in after crashing on the couch the night before. The question came out of nowhere, and Alex had to think it through to make sure he hadn’t missed something. 

“Like, ever?” 

“Next weekend?” he clarified, scrunching his face in awkward discomfort when Alex’s eyes went wide. 

“John, what the fuck.” He dropped his fork, staring incredulously because seriously _what the fuck_. 

“I already got two tickets. You don’t have to come with me, but it wouldn’t be any extra hassle or anything.”

 _“John,”_ he repeated sharply. _“What the fuck?”_

He gave a weary sigh, setting down his fork. “I talked it over with my father, and we’re both going back home for the weekend to try and control the narrative a little bit. Show a united front and all that. His staff thought it’d be better to introduce the story into a local outlet in South Carolina so that it signals it’s not national news or anything, you know, the fact that a Republican senator has a gay son.”

Alex continued to stare, his brows raised high on his forehead, taken aback at how fucking _sudden_ this was, but he couldn’t help offering his input either because his first thought seemed obvious. “That story’s going to get picked up by bigger outlets no matter where you introduce it.”

“Well… yeah. It’s all about appearances though, right? His staff knows that it’ll spread, especially with social media and all that, but they need to make it seem like he doesn’t think it’s especially newsworthy. If the story loses any dramatic flair, then it’ll fade out of the public eye more quickly.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he conceded with some hesitation. It _was_ a decently smart plan after all. He picked up a piece of bacon and chewed at it absently. 

“So?” John was looking at him expectantly, one hand toying with his fork. 

“So what?” he asked around the food in his mouth.

John sighed again, but the corners of his lips were pulling up in a fond smile. “Do you want to come with me?”

Swallowing down the bacon hastily, Alex felt a rush of comprehension. “Oh, that.” He tried his best to think it through, too conscious of John’s eyes on him as he waited for a response. Alex had _just_ met John’s father after all. And it’s not as if _that_ had gone well. He wasn’t exactly eager to see Henry Laurens again, and the prospect was even more nerve wracking with the knowledge that it’d be on his home turf. And then there was the rest of John’s family to contend with. Fuck. 

But he couldn’t really leave John to deal with this alone, could he? He had been the one to fuck up after all. He owed it to him to show up and offer support. Oh, how he wished he could go back in time and stop himself from ever sending that message. Or better yet, just delete the damn app from his phone before he had ever seen that stupid tweet. 

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He wasn’t certain how to feel about the fact that John seemed surprised at his response.

“Okay. Great, yeah.” He finally picked up his fork again, shoving a bite of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“So, you have the tickets already?” Alex asked, his tone switching to something more businesslike. “Are we leaving Friday night? Which airport?”

John looked hesitant at the question and took his time swallowing before he answered. “Um, Thursday after work actually.”

“We can’t _both_ call out sick on Friday.”

“I talked to Washington yesterday night while you were asleep. He said it’s completely fine for both of us to take the day off. It’s just one day, Alex.”

“You–” He cut himself off, brought his hand up to rub between his eyes as a frantic thought took hold. “Hang on. Does _Washington_ _know_? About, you know, everything that happened?” 

“I doubt he knows about _everything_ that happened.”

“John, I’m serious. Does he know about the tweet and everything?” 

“He runs a company that deals with politics, Alex,” he said slowly, measuring his tone. “Did you expect him not to hear about something like this?”

“Jesus. Ugh. Alright.” He pressed his fingers more insistently at the dull ache that was forming behind his eyes. 

“Alex. It’s fine.”

“Yeah except I just proved I can’t hold my tongue and keep my cool very publicly, and my goddamn boss saw the whole thing apparently,” he snapped, his hand balling into a tight fist in his lap.

One corner of John’s lip turned down in a frown. “I’m sure he understands it’s not a typical circumstance, Alex.”

“I’m trying to get a more permanent position working for him, John. That’s not something that’s easy to come by, and he insinuated that if something _did_ come up, he’d consider me for it. My dumbass impulses might have just ruined that chance.”

John just stared at him, a helpless look of sympathy on his face, but apparently lost for words. 

“Fuck, I’m an idiot,” Alex sighed. 

“You’re not an idiot. You’re just… passionate.”

He snorted, self deprecation winning out over anything else in the moment, and dropped his eyes to the floor. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks for trying to soften the blow, but I know I fucked up, John.”

John shrugged, looking a little out of his depth. “Yeah, I mean, it probably wasn’t the best way to handle the situation, but I do appreciate you sticking up for us. Just so you know.”

Alex snapped his gaze back up at that, surprised. “You appreciate it? I thought you were pissed about it.”

After a quiet beat of consideration, John shrugged again looking a little uncomfortable, sighed. “I was in shock, Alex. What did you expect?”

“I don’t know.” He dropped his hands to his lap, fidgeting with his fingers. “I guess I figured you had every right to be upset with me.” 

“Alex…” John gave him another sympathetic look, and it was a little too much pity to bear. 

“Hey. Whatever, you’re not mad, so it’s fine, right?” 

John’s expression softened into a warm smile and he leaned over, pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “I love you.” 

“You’re overdoing that you know,” Alex told him with a roll of his eyes. He knew John was trying to reassure him, and it was working, but he still felt shaky enough about the whole situation that he didn’t want to show his hand. 

Luckily, John took it in stride. 

He put a hand up to Alex’s cheek and turned his face to the side so they were eye to eye. “I love you, Alexander Hamilton,” he said with a cheeky grin before pressing his lips against him. And Alex couldn’t help the way he melted into it. 

“Mmm,” he hummed as John broke away and sat back down in his seat. “I love you, too.” He looked down at his plate and stabbed a forkful of eggs, taking an tentative bite. “Fuck, it’s getting cold.”

“You want me to microwave it?” 

“Nah, I’m almost done anyway.”

  
  
  
Lafayette came over to John’s apartment early in the afternoon, skipping any sort of casual greeting as he opened the door to let him in. “Oh my god, are you alright?” he fretted, glancing between the two of them. 

John caught Alex rolling his eyes, and he smiled at the little bit of normalcy. “Yeah, Lafayette,” he told him, stepping back so he could hang up his jacket by the entryway. “We’re fine.”

“The tweet is blowing up,” he told them, heading into the living room and dropping onto John’s couch. “I have been keeping a very close watch on it. Some of these people are just so rude,” he added with a disappointed shake of his head.

“Can we not talk about all that?” Alex asked, a little too sharply, as he sat down in one of the huge armchairs, tucking his legs up underneath him. 

“Yeah,” John jumped in quickly. He was all too content not to drag Alex’s insecurities back to the forefront. “Let’s just hang out, alright? We can play video games or watch a movie or something.”

Lafayette pursed his lips, looking very much like he’d rather discuss the recent events, but dropped it. “Oh, Alex, did Hercules get in touch with you? He was messaging me yesterday all worried.”

Alex groaned, leaning his head back against the chair. “Yes. Sheesh. What are you guys, my parents?”

“Fantastic,” Lafayette responded with a grin, ignoring the second part. “So, what do you want to do?” 

“I want to go out and do something,” Alex said with a sigh. “It seems so nice outside, and the temperature is finally good. Don’t they have, like, outdoor markets in some neighborhoods this time of year?” 

John grimaced and shot him a look. “We’re staying in, remember?” 

“Shit. Yeah.” He let out a frustrated huff and turned to face Lafayette. “Never mind. Scratch that.”

“Ah, yes. That is probably for the best.” Lafayette turned his gaze from Alex to John, a sympathetic look on his face. I saw a reporter outside the building.”

“You _what_?” John asked, feeling the anger rise in him, blood rushing hot to his cheeks. Fuck that. He got up and rushed to the window, trying to see all the way down to the street, every parked car a potential threat. 

“John, your apartment is way too high up to see anyone from here,” Alex called from where he was still tucked up on the armchair. And he was right because as hard as John squinted down towards the street he couldn’t make out anything distinct. “Why didn’t you tell us that earlier, Lafayette?”

“You said to drop it.” 

“Yeah, okay, but that would have been useful to know.” 

John turned back around just in time to see Lafayette shrug simply. “Well, now you know.”

“Speaking of things that are good to know,” John told him, still hovering by the window. “We’re going to be in South Carolina next weekend.”

Lafayette snapped his head up. “What?” 

Rubbing at the back of his neck, John shifted his gaze to the floor. “Yeah, we’re going down to take care of some stuff.”

“Very specific,” Lafayette noted dryly before turning on Alex. “So, you’re going to meet John’s family then? Are you worried?”

“First of all, I hate this conversation,” Alex said, the side of his face pressed into the chair back as he turned to face him. “Secondly, I already met his dad.”

“Oh, right!” Lafayette’s face lit up as if he just remembered. “How did that go?”

“About as terrible as you could have expected.” Alex glanced over nervously at John as he said it, then back at Lafayette, but John just shrugged. It was true. 

“Alright, yes, but what happened, Alex? I want details.”

“Why are you like this?” 

John rolled his eyes as he crossed back over and dropped down next to Lafayette. It couldn’t hurt to give him the story. He had put up with a lot from the two of them, after all. He deserved something in return. “I said some dumb shit at lunch, and then Alex called my father out for his politics and stormed off, and then I got pissed and yelled at my father as well. That’s the short version.”

“The long version involves us making out on the sidewalk afterward, and some asshole taking a picture and putting it on twitter. And a blowjob on the roof.”

John groaned, bringing his hands up to his face as he felt himself start to flush. “Alex, can you not?” 

“Which roof?”

“My building.”

“Ah. This one would have a better view.”

“I hate both of you,” John told them, finally dropping his hands back to his lap. 

“We should have sex on your roof, John. Lafayette thinks it’d be a good idea.”

John glared at both of them as the blood in his face burned even brighter. “My building has a rooftop lounge type thing, so no, that’d be a terrible idea. Date Lafayette, and you two can have sex wherever you want.”

“I am spoken for, sorry Alex.”

“We’ve never met Adrienne,” John pointed out. “I’m starting to think she doesn’t exist.”

“Of course she exists!”

“Mmm,” Alex chimed in. “I don’t know. John has a point. Seems suspicious.”

“Of course you’ve never met her, she is in France. You’re both terrible.”

“Okay but like, Facetime?” John raised his eyebrows, but he was watching Alex out of the corner of his eye, glad to see him grinning again. “How have we never at least seen her on video?”

“Because it would be rude of me to be on the phone with her while I’m spending time with the two of you. Not that either of you appreciate it.”

“Call her now.” The corner of Alex’s lip pulled up in a smirk as he held back his laughter. 

Lafayette paused for a moment, considering. “It’s dinner time for her right now. I’m not interrupting her meal.”

“Fake,” Alex called out gleefully. 

“You’re both so mean to me,” Lafayette told them, pouting. “You truly deserve each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> October is a busy month but I promise I pretty much never stop working on this fic <3
> 
> Leave some thoughts down in the comments!
> 
> I'm over on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	48. Chapter 48

“Congrats on your internet fame.” Angelica held her coffee up in a cheers gesture as Alex walked into the office kitchen on Monday morning. 

He shot her a dry look and shoved past to grab his own mug from the drying rack by the sink. 

“Hey.” Her voice shifted now to something more careful and concerned. Alex couldn’t see her face with his back turned, but he could imagine the way her brows tugged down as she frowned. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were upset about it.” 

“I’m not.” He fiddled with the settings on the coffee machine and popped one of the pods in, thankful that the water had already heated at least. When Angelica gave him a more scrutinizing look, he turned his back to her again, staring intently down at his brewing drink instead. “I’m fine, okay?” 

“Sure.”

“ _Angelica_.”

“I said sure.” She took a tentative sip of her own coffee, watching him over the edge of the cup. “So, do anything fun this weekend?”

“Fuck off.” 

She laughed at that, and the sound grated at him. He was too tired for this. And too on edge. Leaving for work that morning had been the first time he and John had left the apartment since the tweet blew up, and he could just feel people’s eyes on him. No one actually said anything– and yeah, it was probably all just in his head– but that didn’t really make it better. He’d almost rather someone _did_ say something. At least then he’d feel less like a paranoid asshole. 

“Alex, I’m just joking with you. If you really want me to stop I will, but it’s helpful to laugh about this kind of stuff, you know. You can’t let one jerk behind a screen break you. You’re tougher than that.”

He sighed as his coffee finished brewing and he pulled it away from the machine, blowing the steam off the top. Right– she had probably had a fair deal of experience dealing with the press prying into her family’s private lives. “Sorry, yeah. Yeah, I get that. It’s just been a long couple of days.”

“I bet.” Her face softened into a reassuring smile now, and for once she actually looked like her sister. “How’s John taking it?” 

He took a careful sip of coffee, then another, longer one once he knew it wouldn’t burn his tongue, and scrunched his brow in thought. “Surprisingly well I think? He seems more or less okay.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.” There was a beat of silence, and more to fill it than for any other reason Alex said, “We’re going to South Carolina this weekend.”

“Vacation?” she prompted with a twitch of her lips, sounding very much like she knew that was absolutely not the reason. 

“Yeah, scenic South Carolina. Why go to Paris when there are Confederate monuments to visit, am I right?”

She gave a startled laugh at that, sputtering around a mouthful of coffee and spitting quickly into the sink. “Fuck, Alex,” she exclaimed through her laughter, quickly grabbing a paper towel to dab at her face. “If you made me mess up my makeup….”

“You look fine.” Her lipstick was just barely smudged but he figured it was better in the moment not to bring it up. “So yeah, South Carolina.”

“Is his father forcing him to go?”

Alex chewed at the inside of his cheek, mulling it over. “I’m honestly not sure. He just told me he was going, and asked if I wanted to tag along.”

“ _Do_ you want to go?”

Alex rolled his eyes, taking another sip of his coffee and letting the warmth of it soothe his nerves a bit. “You’re studying law, not psychology. Stop trying to analyze me.”

She shrugged lightly, the expression in her eyes hard to unpack. “Well, I’ve got work to do. Let me know if you need to talk or anything though.” 

She left before Alex had the chance to make any sort of clever comeback, and he took a longer drink to try and get the caffeine flowing into his system. When he started heading back towards the main open workspace, his eyes immediately caught on a large group of interns starting to gather by Will’s desk, right next to his own. He checked his phone and– yes– it was just hitting nine o’clock and the rest of them had started to trickle in while he was in the kitchen. He glanced around the room quickly to note that John was still in one of the smaller conference rooms, on a hushed phone call with his father, presumably going over travel plans. 

Lafayette spotted him before he could decide whether he wanted to stay or bolt and hurried over to catch him up on the situation with an almost apologetic smile. “Word travels fast in this office.”

“So it would seem,” he said carefully. Alex knew he should feel bitter that they were all standing around discussing his private life, but honestly, he was just relieved. Finally, _finally_ , he didn’t have to keep part of his life hidden away from all of them. It was sobering in a way that nothing else about the weekend’s events had been, and he couldn’t quite keep the smile from tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“Do you want me to tell them to stop talking about it?” Lafayette sounded concerned, and Alex realized, for once, he was doing a decent job of not betraying his own emotions. 

He shrugged, not wanting to appear _too_ happy about their gossiping. After all, he wasn’t entirely sure how John would react yet. “It’s fine. If they know, they know, and they’re going to talk about it, right? No use trying to stop the inevitable.”

Lafayette glanced over to where John was still on the phone, and then back at Alex, probably following his same line of thinking, wondering how John was going to react. “I suppose.”

The group at large had noticed Lafayette’s absence, and now a few of the interns caught sight of the two of them and started motioning them over enthusiastically. Alex mentally braced himself for the impact, but he was also undoubtedly looking forward to showing off a little. Being _allowed_ to finally show off. After all, this was familiar to him. Boasting about his own life and relationships, the people he was seeing, letting the others tease him a little bit and snapping right back with his own retorts. He had missed it over the last few months, like it was almost a physical barrier separating him from everyone else. 

As soon as they made their way over, the whole group was talking all at once, an explosive commotion, and Alex couldn’t make out most of it, but James was right next to him and his voice carried over the others. “How long have you been keeping this from us, Hamilton?”

Alex could feel the smug grin spread across his face. “A while now. Like three months? I think?” 

“I _told_ you,” Ben insisted to Will a couple of feet away. “I fucking called it. You owe me twenty bucks.” Alex gave that little detail an internal chuckle, but decided it was probably best not to tell John that their coworkers had been making bets on whether they were fucking. 

“Wait,” Will said, directing his words at Alex now. “So does this mean you two hooked up like… his first week?”

Alex tried to hide his smirk, but it was just too difficult when all he wanted was the chance to _finally_ brag a little bit. “First day, actually.” 

The group erupted into more incomprehensible uproar at that, and Alex allowed himself a moment to bask in it, laughing at some of the more ridiculous comments and questions being thrown his way. 

It felt easy and nice and _comfortable_ to finally be able to talk about his life and his relationship. Especially with the people he had been around nearly every single day. It was like there was some string tied tight around his lungs for the past few months and now that it was gone he could finally _breathe_ again. 

Well, that was until he saw the message from Washington come through on his phone. 

He glanced up at the door to his office, but it was firmly shut, blocking their boss from the commotion going on in the main office space. _Shit_. He read over the message again: _Come talk with me when you get a chance._ In the context of everything else, that couldn’t be good. He almost excused himself to go see exactly how screwed he was when he noticed John finally walking over towards them. _Fuck_ okay, not yet. He should stay for a few minutes. Help John navigate this new dynamic. He glanced over at him and gave a warm smile, trying to hide his newly surfacing nerves because –dammit– they finally got to be together as a _real_ couple, and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity to revel in that a little bit. 

“Hey,” he said lightly as John nudged his way into the circle of bodies. Slipped a hand into his, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Everything good?”

“Yeah.” John offered a tight smile that signaled that maybe everything wasn’t _quite_ that good, but not bad enough to say anything about it now. “It’s going to be busy,” he warned with a slight grimace. “He has the meeting set up for the morning after we get in, and I need to meet with his PR team once we get there.”

“Need to,” Alex reiterated, a little mockingly, with air quotes. “You could just wing it.”

John grinned, relaxing a little and letting out a quiet, amused exhale. “I’m not going to, though.” 

Alex couldn't help the urge– and _fuck_ he didn't have to now– to lean over and place a quick kiss to his cheek.

They only managed about a minute of their private conversation before the others started accosting John for more information. He laughed and smiled and played along easily enough. Alex could tell there was a little bit of tension still in the way he answered their questions, and he wondered if any of that had to do with the fact that _he_ was the reason they had all been kept in the dark for so long. Alex wondered if he felt guilty at all now, for lying to them for months. 

After a few more minutes though, the tension seemed to ease a bit, presumably as John realized no one held any resentment or ill-feelings towards them– neither for their relationship in general or the fact that they had kept it a secret. Once he seemed appropriately at ease, Alex took it as his cue to excuse himself, giving the others an apologetic look and making his excuses. “Sorry, I have a quick meeting with Washington. Really guys, I’ve got to go.” He humored a few more jokes aimed his way and then slipped out of the group, trying to take the few seconds it took to cross the room towards his boss’s office to steady himself. 

He’d be fine. It’s not like he’d done anything explicitly against work rules, after all. What could Washington actually _rightfully_ hold against him here? It was going to be _fine_.

No amount of mental reassurance could stop the way his heart was thudding a little too hard behind his ribs though. He raised his fist and knocked twice, the noise sounding abrasive to his own ears. 

The responding “come in” sounded more like a funeral march than a welcome. 

He opened the door– probably a little too hesitantly considering how often he had entered the space since he began working there and stepped inside. The air in the office felt suffocating the instant he closed the door behind him, and he regretted not taking a few more moments to mentally prepare for whatever this was. 

“Alexander,” Washington addressed him with a curt nod. “How was your weekend?”

What a dumb question to ask, he thought. Of course his weekend was shit. Washington _knew_ about what transpired– according to John at least– so why would he be asking such a stupid question? 

He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, measuring his answer. “It was alright. Had lunch at some French place in Midtown on Saturday. Not too far from here, but I don’t remember the name.” 

“Is that where someone took a picture of you and John and set off the whole Twitter fiasco?” He couldn’t quite tell if that was sympathy or disapproval underlying his tone, but whatever it was, it set his defenses even higher than they already were. 

Alex let out a sharp exhale, feeling his cheeks heat with how quickly Washington called him out on it all. “Look, sir, it’s not a big deal. Just some social media drama that’ll blow over. It won’t affect either of our work.” As he said it he felt a little rush of bitterness that _he_ was in here dealing with Washington and _not John_. Sure he had gone off at that asshole online, but that dick _deserved_ it and he was only defending _both of them_. 

Washington gave him a stern, contemplative look. It was enough to set Alex on edge, unsure exactly what debate was going on behind those unreadable eyes. 

He held still for as long as he could which– given his recent second cup of coffee– wasn't very long. When it became too much, he paced over to the chair in front of Washington’s desk, though he didn’t sit down. Shifted his weight between his feet instead, trying to channel some of his excess energy anywhere besides his mouth because he was sure once that dam broke he wouldn’t be able to control everything he wanted to say. “Sir?”

Finally, with his prompting, Washington let out a strained sigh. “This isn’t public news yet so– can I count on you to be _discreet_ , Alexander?” 

The emphasis he put on the word stung a little bit, but he nodded anyway, curious and a little bit concerned at what sort of news would necessitate discretion. 

“I’m planning on running for office.” He paused for a moment, measuring the level of surprise on Alex’s face before continuing. “Between my experience in the military and working with politics, it’s not a far stretch by any means.” _And with your wealth and convenient connections who can fund a campaign_ , Alex added to himself, not without a hint of bitterness. But he didn’t say anything yet, though his eyes widened and his eyebrows raised just a fraction. It’s not like he’d never entertained the idea of Washington getting involved in politics more directly, but it always seemed far off, distant. It also had seemed like something _Washington himself_ had never been particularly thrilled about pursuing. He wondered off-handedly who it was that had finally needled him enough that he was actually running. 

Washington cleared his throat and continued. “And, well, I was planning on offering you a role in my campaign somewhere. Communications, speeches, policy, something along those lines.” His brow furrowed now, and his expression darkened, though subtly, and that low voice took on a slightly harsher edge. Alex knew that tone well enough– it was the one that always surfaced when he was clinging to his professionalism but his temper was trying to claw its way up. “But after seeing how you conducted yourself at the slightest provocation this weekend, I’m concerned you don’t have the restraint necessary to work on something so clearly in the public eye.” His voice turned incrementally colder as he spoke, tightly reined in frustration in the words, and Alex felt the shame well in his chest. God, he sounded fucking _disappointed_ in him. 

“Sir, please–” 

Washington cut him off before he could get even half a sentence worth of explanation out. “I’m sure you’re starting to figure out already that there are consequences to impulsiveness when it comes to things like this.” He leveled Alex with a steady look, weighty and piercing. “Nothing is set in stone yet. I haven’t made any concrete staffing decisions, and the announcement itself is still a little ways off, but you need to realize that if you want to make it in the world of politics, how you present yourself publicly is _important_ , son. You cannot just run your mouth every time someone says something you don’t like. There’s no hiding once you’re involved in campaigns, and everything _will_ end up being fair game. Is that understood?” 

His voice rang out clear and too harsh, and it echoed in Alex’s ears for a moment like a crash of thunder. “Yes, sir.” He felt shame coloring the tips of ears now. He couldn’t believe this was happening over a fucking _kiss_ of all things. It made his blood burn hot under his skin, just realizing how goddamn _unfair_ the whole situation was. He didn’t have anything to hide, and he let that asshole have exactly what was coming to him. But that didn’t matter right now apparently, and maybe he tended to be impulsive and hot tempered but Alex was _also_ ambitious as hell, and he wasn’t about to throw away his shot at working on Washington’s campaign over something this petty. He knew how to play nice when necessity dictated it. “It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.”

Alex hesitated for a moment, unsure where to go from here. The air didn’t feel cleared by any means, but he couldn’t figure out what else to say without sticking his foot in his mouth. Maybe that was the key, to just _stop talking_ before he could make things worse. He nodded a terse agreement and bit at the inside of his lip. “Should I…?” He glanced back towards the door, unsure.

“Yes, that’ll be all Alexander. Go get some work done. And try not to let everyone remain so distracted all day with the gossip.”

 _Jesus._ He felt the blood burn impossibly hotter in his face. What just moments ago felt like a badge of honor– the chance to _finally_ show off his relationship– now felt like another source of guilt. “Yes, sir.” He ducked out of the office and headed back to his desk, grateful that the crowd had at least mostly dispersed. John shot him a questioning look, his forehead creased with concern, but Alex just shook his head in easy dismissal. He’d unload all of problems later, when they were safely home and in a private enough space that no one else would hear his bitching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex cannot catch a break tbh 
> 
> I love you x100000000 to the people who leave me comments you're the best 
> 
> Still on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	49. Chapter 49

Normally, with a week like this one, John would be looking forward to the weekend desperately. His coworkers’ sudden interest in his and Alex’s relationship was endearing but exhausting, he was trying to cram five days of work into four, his father was calling him much more often than he was used to, and to top it all off he had been trying to figure out how to deal with Alex all week. 

Alex who was currently working himself ragged in an effort to prove himself– and to prove Washington wrong– after their boss had pulled him aside and implied he might not be a good fit for the campaign he was apparently planning. 

And it would be _fine_ if it was just the extra work– it’s not like he hadn’t seen Alex working through particularly tight deadlines before– but he was growing increasingly stressed and prone to mood swings and his lack of sleep _certainly_ wasn’t helping with that. John couldn’t help but wonder– perhaps selfishly– how all of this would affect their visit back home to South Carolina with Alex meeting so much of his family for the first time while he was constantly a few wrong words away from exploding over any tiny issue. 

So, normally he’d be looking forward to the weekend and getting a chance to unwind, but of course even that couldn’t be easy this week. They’d have to be packed and ready to leave on Thursday, and John probably wouldn’t get five minutes to relax until they arrived back in the city. He glanced up from his own work, some complicated spreadsheet that he had been working on since yesterday, to see Alex arguing with Aaron about something across the room. It wasn’t unusual to see Alex arguing of course, but there was a certain set to his brow and tension in his shoulders that betrayed his aggravated mood. This wasn’t the cocky, confident debating that Alex was so prone to– when he knew he was right and didn’t care if it stung a little to get his point across. No, this was a much more insecure brand of conflict fueled by all of the things currently weighing on his mind, and John pitied anyone on the receiving end. He watched Aaron huff a sigh, shake his head, and walk back towards their side of the room, sliding into his desk just a few seats down from John and logging back onto his laptop. A few of the other interns were already out to lunch, so there was no one separating them when Aaron glanced over and cocked a brow. 

“Are you two fighting?”

John gave him a dry look and rolled his eyes. “No.” 

“Hmm.” Aaron let his gaze fix back on his screen, pulling up whatever project he was working on.

John tried to focus back in on his own work as well, but it was useless. He couldn’t quite get the smug, knowing tone of that non-response out of his head. “What do you mean ‘hmm’? We’re not fighting.” 

The corner of his lip twitched the tiniest bit, but otherwise Aaron’s expression remained neutral. “Well, he’s clearly worked up about _something_. Even for Alexander, this is a little much.” 

John tapped his finger against his desk, chewing at the inside of his cheek, feeling the words prick at him. He wasn’t sure if his irritation was over the fact that Aaron was complaining about Alex _to him_ or the fact that he had assumed John was the cause of it. Either way, he was grating on John’s already frayed nerves. “Look, I don’t know what you were even talking about over there, but did you ever think that maybe you deserved whatever it was he said to you?”

Probably not the most diplomatic way to handle the situation, but John couldn’t bring himself to care too much. Plus, it felt nice to take out his anxiety on _someone_. 

Aaron pursed his lips, glanced across the room at Alex, then back at his own screen. “Doubtful.” He started typing again, and John concluded that he was not in fact getting any information on what they had been arguing about. It probably wasn’t that important anyway, so he let it drop. 

He turned back to his own screen, entered in a few more numbers in one of the columns, then found himself spacing out again, distracted by thoughts of the coming weekend. He groaned internally, and picked up his phone, surprised to see a new text from his younger brother. 

\--Jemmy: Can we go see a movie this weekend? They just refurbished the theater close to home and it’s got imax now. I wanted to check it out

He gave the message a tight-lipped smile, but felt a stab of guilt as he responded. 

\--John: Sorry I’m not going to have time. Next time? 

\--Jemmy: When is “next time”? :/

John cursed under his breath, breathing out a sharp sigh. “Jesus kid,” he muttered under his breath. 

\--John: Thanksgiving is like a month away. Then we can do whatever you want 

He put the phone down and started to reread over his work, but it buzzed again almost immediately. Aaron shot him a curious look, but didn’t say anything. 

\--Jemmy: Okay fine

\--Jemmy: By the way when were you going to tell us about Alex? 

He felt himself flush as he realized that Jemmy, along with the rest of his siblings, all knew about Alex now. Of course they did. Anyone with Twitter knew. 

His mind flashed with different excuses for not saying something sooner– he didn’t want to tell their father, he hadn’t seen all of them in person since he and Alex started dating, he was trying to protect Alex’s privacy– but instead he just typed out a more neutral response. 

\--John: Can we not do this over text? We’ll talk soon alright?

\--Jemmy: Yeah okay. Tomorrow night right?

\--John: It’ll be late when we get in

\--Jemmy: I’m not a kid anymore. It’s not like I have a bedtime

John breathed a quiet laugh at that, drawing another glance from Aaron. Nosy motherfucker. 

\--John: Yeah yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow then

\--Jemmy: See you tomorrow :)

He shoved his phone into his pocket, stared at his laptop for another moment, then shut it. He wasn’t getting any work done and it was roughly lunch time anyway. When he stood from his chair, he glanced over towards Alex, but hesitated when he saw how intently focused he was, furiously typing away. He headed for Lafayette’s desk instead. 

“Hey,” he said, leaning one hand down on the surface to try and get his attention. “You want to get lunch?” 

Lafayette turned to him with a bright smile. “Of course. Let me just finish up one last thing. Is Alex coming as well?” As he asked, he turned back to his screen, typing up a few sentences of what looked like some sort of report. 

“Maybe? I haven’t asked him yet. He might end up just ordering something honestly.”

“Ah,” Lafayette said as he closed his file and logged out. “Because he’s so busy trying to overcompensate?”

The corner of John’s lip pulled down in a frown, not exactly in the mood for Lafayette’s joking jabs. He shrugged, hoping it came off casual. “He has a lot of work to get done apparently.” 

“Do you want me to talk to Washington?” Lafayette asked, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and tugging it on. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to upset him this much.” 

“He’s not _upset_.”

Lafayette shot him a pointed look that clearly said _we both know that’s not true_. 

“Look, don’t bring it up with Washington, alright? That’ll probably just make things worse, and Alex wouldn’t want you interfering in things.”

He gave an acquiescent hum. “You’re right I suppose.” He glanced across the room where Alex was still single-mindedly focused. “Let’s go try and pull him away for a little bit. It’ll be good for him.”

Alex didn’t look up from his screen, even when the two of them stopped just behind his desk, hovering as they waited for some kind of recognition. 

Lafayette stepped more into his field of vision. “Alex?” When he didn’t respond, only continued typing away, Lafayette made a short annoyed noise and looked towards John for help. 

John rolled his eyes, stepped closer and put both his hands over his shoulders. Fought the grin threatening his face when Alex jumped at the contact. Will, sitting next to him at his desk, didn’t bother hiding his own snort of laughter. 

When Alex craned his neck around to look at him, his expression was half annoyed, half confused. 

“Come get lunch with us.” He leaned down and placed a quick kiss to his temple, noticing with a sliver of satisfaction the way Alex blushed at the display. 

He bit his lip and shook his head. “I can’t. I have a couple of briefs to get through and then some sort of talking point write up for a conference. And I need to get it all done before we leave tomorrow. Aaron was trying to convince me to pass off the one on education to him, but I can handle it, and the _last_ thing I need is Washington thinking I’m too lazy to get my own shit done.”

Lafayette shot John an exasperated look.  
  
John raised his brows and tried to choose his words carefully. “Alex, no one would ever dream of calling you lazy. Come get food. We’ll keep it short, promise.”

He shook his head more insistently this time, his voice edging into irritated territory now. “John, I’m serious. I can’t. Look, I wouldn’t have so much to get done by tomorrow if it weren’t for the whole South Carolina thing, so can you just drop it?” 

John let his hands fall back to his sides as Alex turned to his screen again. He had to remind himself that Alex was stressed. That his frustration wasn’t really _for_ John. Still, it didn’t feel great to be on the receiving end. “Sure,” he said, a little short. “Lafayette, you ready to go?” 

Lafayette looked between the two of them quickly, then shrugged to himself. “Sure. Alex are you certain you don’t want to come with us? I’ll pay, and we _will_ keep it short. I have a lot of work today anyway, and I don’t want to be out too long.”

Alex waved both of them off until they got the hint and headed for the door. 

Once they were safely out on the sidewalk, Lafayette turned to him, not bothering to hide his exasperation anymore. “Please let me talk to Washington.”

“Lafayette, no.” John shoved his hands in his pockets, not thrilled to be having this conversation at all. 

“Please,” he insisted. “I think it could help, and Alexander is such a pain when he gets like this.”

“You think I don’t know that?” John snapped. “I basically live with him. Literally every little thing is setting him off. But you trying to get involved is going to make it worse. He just needs to ride this out. He’ll be fine in a few days.” If anything, their trip would help distract him. Maybe not in a _good_ way, but it would take his mind off of Washington’s disapproval at least. 

Lafayette didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t try to argue further either. _Good_ , John thought to himself. He didn’t want to deal with Alex getting pissed off at Lafayette as well. 

“So,” Lafayette said, his tone solidly implying a change in topic. “Where are we going?”

“Do you actually have to get back soon?”

“No,” he admitted with a grin. “I was just trying to convince Alex to leave the office. My schedule is mostly clear the rest of the day.”

John snorted a laugh and felt the tension start to relax from his shoulders. “Okay. I have a few things to get done, but I can finish up anything I don’t get to at home. God knows Alex’ll be working through the evening.” 

“There’s a new Thai place I’ve been wanting to try. A few blocks over.”

“Sounds good to me.” 

Silence settled comfortably for a couple of minutes as they walked until Lafayette turned on him again. “So, how are you feeling about this weekend?”

John made a face. If it were up to him, he would ignore the whole situation completely until he arrived in South Carolina and had no choice but to deal with it, but no one else seemed content to let him live in denial unfortunately. Between his father and Alex and his friends, he felt like it was all he had been talking about. “I don’t know. Fine I guess?” 

Lafayette gave him a skeptical look. “Really?”

John shrugged, diverting his gaze to face forward again. “Yeah. It’s not like it’s a big deal.”

It took him a few seconds to realize that Lafayette had stopped walking, and John turned around abruptly, stepping closer to the building to his right to get out of the way as a group of people tried to pass them. 

Lafayette shook his head, like he needed a minute before he could speak. “John, no offense but you sound ridiculous.”

John opened his mouth to argue, but Lafayette cut him off before he could get a word out. “Of course it’s a big deal. Your father is arranging a whole PR campaign centered around your private relationship. Someone just outed you to the whole world for social media… _merde_ what’s the word?”

“Clout?” John tried, resigned at this point to let Lafayette make his point. It’s not like he was wrong after all.

“Yes. Clout.” He snapped his fingers. “That’s the one. Someone just outed you for clout, John. And now your father is asking you to talk about it to reporters to make sure his campaign doesn’t suffer. That’s not an easy thing, and no one would blame you for being worried about how it’s going to go. You don’t need to lie to me, or to Alex for that matter, and say that everything is fine when it’s clearly not.”

“I don’t want to fixate on it,” John admitted, rubbing at one of his arms self consciously. “And as for Alex, you really think he’ll hold onto what little cool he has left if I let him know I’m nervous about it? That I’d rather not fucking do this whole PR stunt in the first place?”

Lafayette gave him a surprised look, eyebrows raised high on his forehead. This was the first time John actually said the words out loud, and he sighed knowing he had lost his own careful hold on his emotions after keeping them down successfully for days now. 

“You don’t have to do it you know.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“John–”

“No. Look, it’s not up for debate. It would be a monumentally selfish move on my part not to go down there and say something at this point. My father’s career is important, not just to him, but to my family. Whether you or Alex or anyone else gets that or not, that’s how it is. And I’m not keeping my mouth shut and throwing them under the bus when I can clear some things up with the truth. It’s better than having everyone speculate on whether my father’s secretly disowning me behind closed doors anyway, isn’t it?” He could feel his face heating up now, and he shoved his hands in his pockets and turned his face away, not wanting Lafayette to read him too carefully. 

“Alright.” 

John turned back towards him, carefully trying to school his expression. “Alright?”

He shrugged, moving closer to John to get out of the way of a group of tourists. “I can understand where you’re coming from. I don’t think it’s fair that you feel you _have_ to do something you don’t want to, but your reasons make sense at the very least, so I’m not going to judge you for that. Do you want to go get lunch now?” he asked, glancing around John in the general direction of the restaurant. 

John felt the corner of his lip twitch up in half a smile. “Yeah, sure.” He fell into step beside Lafayette, glancing up at him as he chewed at the inside of his cheek. “Don’t tell Alex about all this, okay? He’s stressed enough about everything right now. I don’t need him getting worked up on my account.”

“If that’s what you want,” Lafayette said, shrugging again. “But I think it would be good for you to be honest with him.”

John held his tongue and kept walking. Lafayette just didn’t _get_ how much Alex would never drop the matter if he told him he didn’t want to do the interview or the trip home. He didn’t need that kind of grief right now, and he definitely didn’t need Alex assuming his father was forcing him to do this or something. No, it was better to just keep it to himself. The trip would be over soon enough anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope all my fellow American friends are coping with the election anxiety in whatever way you can <3 
> 
> Leave comments and come hang out on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	50. Chapter 50

Alex glanced out the window of the plane, a crease forming between his brows as he stared at all of the people moving around outside on the tarmac as they continued to wait for take off. “Is it supposed to take this long?”

He felt John’s hand come to rest on his thigh, heard him breathe a quiet laugh. “This isn’t that long.” 

“Feels like it’s taking forever,” he grumbled, pressing his forehead to the window. 

“Wait,” John said with a note of sudden realization in his voice. “When was the last time you were on a plane?”

Alex rolled his eyes and turned towards him, unimpressed. “When I came to New York for the first time.”

“Shit, that was _years_ ago. Weren’t you only eighteen then?”

“Seventeen,” he admitted reluctantly. “And so what? I doubt they’ve changed how planes work since then.”

John squeezed his thigh. “You gonna be okay?”

“Don’t be a dick, I’m fine. Just annoyed that we’re just _sitting here_ when I have so much other shit I could be doing.” The woman in the row ahead of them turned around to give him a dirty look, no doubt because her kid was sitting next to her and within earshot. 

“You sure?” 

As if there was nothing to worry about being thousands of feet in the air where any mechanical failure could result in them spiraling to their deaths. “Yeah. I’m _fine_ , John. More nervous about what comes _after_ the plane ride to be honest.”

John gave him what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and Alex was starting to think that maybe this whole thing was weighing on him more than he had originally assumed. “You want a drink?” 

Oh, _that_ he could get behind. Even if they were probably charging twenty bucks for a weak cocktail or half a glass of wine. “Sure. Is there a menu or something?” 

“Back of the seat.”

He fished through the pouch on the seatback until he found the right sheet of laminated paper. 

“They won’t come around til we’re up in the air though.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Do you want to spill everywhere?”

“Oh, come on. There’s workarounds for that. They could put it in a cup with a lid or something.”

“Pretty sure it’s a legality thing.”

Yeah, okay, that one made more sense. Still, Alex pulled a face, shoved the menu back into its pouch. “How much longer do you think we’re gonna be waiting?”

John just shrugged, kicking at his backpack under the seat in front of him. “You’re worse than my little brother, you know that? Just be patient, we’ll leave when we leave.”

Alex huffed a sigh and leaned his head against John’s shoulder, running his fingers nervously over the rough material of his seatbelt. He didn’t _want_ to be patient. He wanted this stupid plane ride to be over with so that whatever was going to happen in South Carolina could just go ahead and happen already. Sitting around with nothing to do wasn’t helping. 

John squeezed a little more firmly on his thigh, and Alex let his eyes drift closed. Tucked his face in closer against John’s shoulder. 

“You should try and get some sleep. What time did you get up this morning?”

“A little before five,” he answered, the words muffled by John’s sleeve. “I had work to get done.”

John breathed a slightly amused sigh and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Try and get some sleep. The seats go back pretty far up here, and they have pillows and blankets if you want.”

Alex picked his head up enough so he could give John a pointed look. “I still think it’s ridiculous you let him buy us first class tickets for a two hour flight.”

“I didn’t _let him_ do anything, Alex. He said he’d buy the tickets for us since he was the one asking me to come down in the first place, and it’s not like I was going to tell him how to spend his money. Plus, you really need to sleep at some point, and the seats in economy are uncomfortable as hell, so it’s probably for the best anyway.”

Alex raised his brows, looking skeptical. “Have you ever actually flown economy?” He snorted when John flushed and didn’t answer. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. How are you gonna complain about the seats when you’ve never actually sat in one?”

“I’ve _seen_ them. You don’t need to sit in one of those things for a few hours to know that they’re shit.” 

The woman in front of them turned around again and cleared her throat, glaring at them. John looked embarrassed, but Alex had a hard time holding back his laughter at the affronted look on her face. He leaned his head back against John’s shoulder, pressing a quick kiss near his collarbone. “I forget how spoiled you are sometimes. Should I be worried about what exactly I’m walking into here? Like, is your place in South Carolina a huge, mansion style property with a five car garage?”

“Only a three car garage.”

“ _Only_ ,” Alex repeated teasingly. 

“It is, uh, pretty big though.”

Alex laughed. “Yeah, I figured. It’s fine, John. I’m just joking with you.” He wasn’t sure how true that really was. Sure, he _had_ only meant to tease him, but the more he thought about what sort of place John must have grown up in, the giant house and expensive private school and never wanting for anything, the more a nagging sense of inferiority started to gnaw at him. John didn’t respond, and after a moment the silence started to worry him. He leaned his head back to look up into his face and caught him staring off out the window, the corners of his lips pulled down just slightly. “Hey,” Alex said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “You okay?” 

John’s expression quickly softened into a smile, warm and sweet, as he squeezed back. “Yeah, I’m good.” He leaned down and captured Alex’s lips in a gentle kiss, causing him to startle a little. He still wasn’t used to John acting affectionate in public, especially without glancing around to check if anyone was watching first. “I love you.”

Alex blinked up, a little confused, but mostly grateful as John pulled back again. “Love you too.”

  
  


John glanced around the crowded area of the airport near baggage claim, his own suitcase handle clutched tightly in one hand, Alex still waiting impatiently for his own bag, as he tried to see if his father was there yet amid the masses of people– travelers waiting for luggage, families reuniting, the occasional employee making their way through the crowd. He checked his phone, but there was no message, so he wandered back over towards the carousel. Alex was still staring down at the belt as suitcases and bags drifted past, looking a little rumpled from his nap on the plane.

“Shouldn’t my bag have been right next to yours? What the hell.” 

“Nah, everything gets jumbled up most of the time. Maybe you just missed it the first time? It’ll come around again.”

“I didn’t _miss_ it. I’ve been watching this whole time!”

“Isn’t that it, right there?” John asked, pointing towards what he was almost certain was Alex’s worn duffle bag passing by them on the belt.

“Oh! Shit.” He had to jog a bit to catch up with it so he could pull it off the carousel.

John lifted his hand to his mouth to cover a quiet laugh and was distracted enough that he didn’t notice the sound of anyone approaching until he heard his father’s voice right behind him. “Jack!” 

John spun around, startled, and straightened up a little bit. Lifted his hand in greeting as his father approached. He gripped John in a brief, but tight hug, his body still warm from the short walk through the parking lot. “Glad you could make it.” He glanced around for a moment, his brows drawn in confusion. “Where’s Alexander? I thought he was coming as well.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s just grabbing his bag. He’s on the other side of the carousel.”

His father glanced down at him, slightly disapproving look in the raise of his brows and the downward tilt of his lips. “You should really offer to help, Jack.”

It took a good amount of willpower to hold back his eye roll. Of course, with everything else going on, his father was concerned about his _manners_. “Alex doesn’t need my help getting his bag. He’s fine.”

“Still.” He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with how to finish this conversation. The brief silence that followed was awkward, but it _was_ kind of nice that his father was trying for some semblance of normalcy. Even if he clearly had no idea how to navigate any of this. John couldn’t help a slight smile when he thought back to the day when he offered to carry Alex’s laundry for him on the subway, and he got so defensive they nearly got into an argument over it. Yeah, the whole chivalry thing clearly wasn’t always the best strategy when it came to Alex. 

He appeared at John’s side a moment later, just a little out of breath from hurrying after his stuff. He hitched his bag a little higher on his shoulder so it wouldn’t slip when he reached out a hand in greeting. “Good to see you again, Senator Laurens,” he said, the look on his face far too conscious of _exactly_ how their last encounter ended. 

His father just gave a good natured laugh though, accepting the handshake with a polite smile. “It’s Henry, Alexander. No one calls me senator in my own home.” 

“Uh, right.”

John couldn’t blame Alex for sounding so uncomfortable with that. He wasn’t used to hearing anyone besides his father’s friends call him _Henry_. 

If his father noticed his discomfort, he didn’t say anything, just pressed on with the expected small talk. “So, how was the flight?”

“It was fine,” John told him as they all started walking towards the exit, his father leading the way to the parking lot. “Pretty much on time, which is always good. Thanks again for buying the tickets.”

His father waved it off, even though John knew he must have been expecting that as part of the response. “Not at all. I asked you to come down after all.” He was silent for a second as they passed through a double set of doors into the waiting area, just across the street from the visitor parking. “I know they don’t serve meals on flights that short, but did you boys have anything to eat yet?” 

“Not yet.” Alex had been asleep less than twenty minutes after they finally took off and hadn’t woken up until they were landing. There wasn’t time to order any snacks, and they hadn’t thought to get dinner before they left. 

“We can pick something up on the way back. How about pizza?”

“Sure.” John glanced to his other side. “Alex?”

“Hmmm?” he asked, looking distracted. 

“Is pizza alright?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah sure, that’s fine.”

“You can call and place the order when we’re in the car, Jack,” his father told him, a pace or two ahead of them now. 

John shifted his suitcase to his other side so he could grab Alex’s free hand as they crossed the parking lot. Squeezed a little tighter when Alex turned to him and smiled. “You get enough sleep on the plane?” 

“Yeah. You should have woke me up sooner,” he grumbled. “I feel like I’m still half asleep right now.”

“The ride back is like an hour. You can sleep in the car if you want.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m awake enough, and I want to get some work done before we go to bed. Don’t want to be all drowsy when we get in.”

John chewed at the inside of his cheek and glanced down at his phone to check the time. “It’s already getting late, and we have to be up early tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t take too long.” 

John was pretty sure that was a lie, but he didn’t have the energy to challenge it at the moment, especially not while his father was within earshot. When they got to the car he hoisted his own suitcase into the trunk, and before he had the chance to offer any help, Alex tossed his duffle bag in beside it. If he had anything to say about the shiny, black Lexus his father drove, Alex– thankfully– kept it to himself. 

John hesitated after closing the trunk, unsure which seat to take. He _wanted_ to sit in the back with Alex of course, but he knew it was rude to leave the driver up front alone, especially when the driver was his father and he didn’t see him regularly, so he gave Alex a quick kiss on the cheek before climbing in the front seat. His father turned on the radio, some country song, and pulled out of the parking lot. The three of them sat in awkward silence as they drove away from the airport and towards the highway, and John settled in for a long, uncomfortable ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of "Alex doesn't entirely trust technology" feat. airplanes :D
> 
> Leave comments down below!
> 
> Come hang out on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	51. Chapter 51

Even in the dark, John could feel the haunting sense of familiarity as he dragged his suitcase up the walkway to the front steps, the porch light illuminating intricate detailing on the windows of the double front doors. He glanced back at Alex, noticing how his wide eyes darted all around them, taking in the landscaping and what they could see of the property and the immense _size_ of the house itself. John figured if they were alone he’d have some snark about how _excessive_ it all was, but here, with his father so close, he remained completely silent. And the way he just _stared_ at it all was worse than any gentle teasing he could offer. Sure, Alex knew that his family had money, but _this_ – seeing it all– was a whole different story. 

Before he had too long to fixate on that thought and spiral down a rabbit hole of what Alex might be thinking, the front doors flew open– Jemmy bounding out onto the porch while Polly trailed closely behind, a big smile on his face as he waved enthusiastically across the front lawn. “Jack! You made it!” he yelled out, not daring to venture further in just his socks. 

“Of course I did,” he called back with a laugh, feeling some of that fleeting tension melt away at the sight of his little brother and sister. “What, did you think my flight would get delayed in this terrible weather we’re having?” he joked, glancing up at the clear, night sky. As he did, he fully took in the expanse of stars dotting the darkness above him for the first time since they landed, now far enough away from any large city that he could really appreciate them. It was so different, so much more _vibrant_ , than the night sky in New York. It reminded him that even if the plane ride was only two hours, he may as well have been transported to a whole other world. He snapped out of his thoughts when he almost tripped over his own feet. Took a subtle, steadying breath before lifting his suitcase to the top of the porch steps and over to the side so his hands were free to catch his younger brother as he threw his arms around him. “Hey,” he said, laughing again as the air was knocked from his lungs a tiny bit at the impact. “I missed you, kid.”

“Missed you, too,” Jemmy said, his voice muffled where his face was pressed snugly against John’s chest. 

John felt a smaller set of arms wrap around his side and adjusted his position to bring Polly more securely into the impromptu group hug, ruffling her hair just a bit as she squeezed tightly onto him. “Shouldn’t you be in bed,” he asked with a grin, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Wanted to stay up til you got home,” she said, a little petulant as she tried and failed to stifle a yawn. 

John wrapped his arms a little tighter around both of them for a moment before pulling back to grab his suitcase again. “Where’s Harry?” he asked, glancing behind them into the empty entryway. 

“He’s up in his room,” Jemmy said with a roll of his eyes, then added with air quotes, “Doing homework.” 

John let out a startled laugh. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“You _really_ think Harry’s doing homework this late when he doesn’t even have to go to school tomorrow?” 

John bit his lip to stop himself from laughing again and tried not to think too hard about what his teenage brother could be doing alone in his room. “Fair point.”

His father let out a deep, disapproving sigh as he ascended the porch stairs with the pizza boxes balanced in his hands, Alex bringing up the rear. “Polly, I told you before I left that you were supposed to be in _bed_ by the time we got home.”

“Harry said I could stay up.”

“No he didn’t,” Jemmy quipped, crossing his arms over his chest and giving her a smug look. 

“Did _so_.”

“Well, Jack is home now, so it’s time to go to sleep. Brush your teeth and get into bed.” 

Polly pouted, but trudged back inside and up the stairs anyway. 

With the crowd on the porch clearing out as their father headed in to put down the food, Jemmy finally caught proper sight of Alex and flashed a bright smile and waved. “Hey, you must be Alex. Nice to meet you.” 

Alex grinned back at him, seeming to visibly relax now that their father was out of sight. “Yeah. It’s Jemmy, right?” He waited for Jemmy to nod in response before continuing. “Good to finally meet you. John talks about you all the time.”

Jemmy glanced down at his feet, his smile and slight blush clearly half self conscious, half pleased with that admission.

“Come on,” John said, watching the interaction as his heart seemed to swell with affection. “Let’s go inside. I’m starving.” 

“What kind of pizza did you get?” Jemmy asked, leading the way back through the doors. 

“Didn’t you already have dinner?”

“I’m _growing_ ,” he insisted with a cheeky grin. And he _was_. John was pretty sure he had sprouted up another inch or so since he had last seen him. Still, he rolled his eyes at the smug way he said it and couldn’t help thinking that he was growing up way too fast as he paused by the landing. 

“Here,” he said, grabbing the strap of Alex’s bag and taking it from him before he could protest. “I’m just going to bring our stuff upstairs. Jemmy, can you show Alex to the kitchen?” 

“Yeah.” He motioned Alex forward through the sitting room. “It’s over this way.”

Alex glanced back at him for just a moment, and John gave him a reassuring smile with one foot resting on the bottom step. “I’ll be right back down.”

* * *

Every step through the house, every new room they passed through, brought something else for Alex to be distracted by. Expensive paintings and shiny hardwood floors and ornate rugs and family pictures hanging on the walls and propped up on shelves. Jemmy led him through too quickly to really get a proper look at any of it, and Alex made a mental note to at least go back to the pictures later. “So you work with Jack in New York?”

“Hmm?” Alex startled out of his own thoughts. Jemmy had been chattering away, but he hadn’t actually addressed Alex with a question until now. “Uh, yeah.”

“I’ve only been to New York a couple of times,” he admitted, finally stepping into the kitchen where the pizza boxes were waiting on a ginormous kitchen island with bright white, stone countertops. “I like it though. Is that where you’re from?”

“No.” Alex grabbed one of the plates that had been laid out next to the pizza boxes and pulled a slice away from the rest, hopping up onto a tall stool and swinging his legs absently. Being tired never seemed to really drain his physical energy, and at this hour he felt more restless than anything else. “I grew up on an island in the Caribbean,” he told him, unsure how precise a middle schooler’s knowledge of geography would be and opting for a more general explanation of where he grew up. 

“Puerto Rico?” Jemmy guessed. “That’s where my mom was from.”

Alex felt a smile soften his expression as he stared down into sharp, inquisitive eyes. With the freckles scattered across his face and his hair growing just long enough that it was starting to curl, Alex was struck by how much he looked like John. “No, St. Croix. It’s part of the Virgin Islands. Not too far from Puerto Rico, but a lot smaller,” he explained, motioning with his hands out of habit. 

“Oh.” He paused for a moment as Alex took a bite of his pizza. “Do you miss it?”

He shrugged, swallowing his mouthful before answering. “Not really. The weather was nicer, but besides that…” He shrugged again, not sure how to explain to a kid that he had no family to go back to and no attachment to the place he grew up in. “New York is nice. I like the city, the energy of it. It’s a better fit. Plus there’s more opportunities on the mainland. For jobs and sh– stuff,” he quickly corrected. He was pretty sure most kids his age had heard plenty of curse words, but he didn’t really want to risk John accusing him of corrupting his little brother. 

Jemmy grabbed a slice of pizza, taking the second plate that was clearly meant for John from beside the boxes. “I don’t know where I want to live. Once I’m done with school and all that.”

Alex smirked a little, unable to help it. “You’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.” He took another bite, wondering if he should ask for a glass of water or just start rummaging through the cabinets himself. Decided instead that he wasn’t _that_ thirsty and it could wait. “So, you got to skip school just to fly down here for the weekend? That’s pretty lucky.”

Jemmy frowned down at his plate, but nodded, a conflicted expression crossing his face. “Yeah, except they’re doing this lab in science tomorrow about tectonic plates, and now I’m going to miss it.” 

“Oh. Does that mess up your grade or something?”

“No. My teacher said the day’s work will just be dropped since it’s an excused absence, but it looks like a really cool lab and it sucks that I had to miss _that_ instead of, like, a test or something.” 

Alex gave a sympathetic hum, deciding right then that he could see why John was so fond of him. He might not have a ton of experience dealing with kids, but he could relate to not wanting to miss out on learning all of the cool stuff at school when he was younger. When he would get sick during the winters back home his mom practically had to lock him inside to get him to stay home. Not thirty seconds later, John finally walked into the room, already changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt. He headed for the cabinets first, pulling out another plate and sliding it across the island towards the far side where the barstools were, then opened another and grabbed a glass before looking back over his shoulder. “You want something to drink?” 

Alex swallowed his pizza hastily as he nodded, feeling like this entire house was too goddamn fancy to talk with his mouth full. “Yeah, just water’s fine.”

“You sure? There’s seltzer, wine, beer… you can look in the fridge too. Take whatever you want.”

“Water’s fine.” He glanced over at Jemmy and figured it would feel a little weird to have a real, alcoholic drink sitting next to a twelve-year-old kid. 

John just shrugged and pulled out a second glass, filling them both from the little dispenser on the fridge door and putting one down in front of Alex before taking the seat next to him and leaning forward onto his forearms to make eye contact with his little brother. “So, how have things been over the last week? Like, actually?”

Alex’s eyebrows shot up, not expecting that level of candor, and turned to wait for Jemmy’s response as well. “Hectic I guess? Father’s been in and out of meetings with people, making arrangements, talking with his legal team.”

John groaned, leaning more heavily against the counter. “Please don’t tell me he’s trying to sue the guy.”

“No,” he corrected quickly. “Not over the tweet. I think it’s more about different news outlets, and defamation and that type of stuff.” 

Alex tried not to laugh because only a politician’s kid would be talking about _defamation_ at twelve years old. 

“Ah, got it. Did he seem angry?”

“Yeah.” When John’s mouth twisted in a grimace, Jemmy was quick enough to clarify again. “Not angry _at you_. I’m pretty sure he was angry _for you_. Just at, like, the situation as a whole, you know?”

“Oh.” John took a bite of his pizza, mulling that over. “That’s good I guess. Not good that he’s upset of course, but– I don’t know.” 

“Yeah, it’s good,” Jemmy agreed decisively with a small smile, seeming to follow along with the broken up and mostly nonsensical train of thought even as John couldn’t quite verbalize it.

They were all quiet for a moment, and Alex could hear the sound of his chewing, too loud to his own ears, but he didn’t want to be the one to interrupt the moment so he waited.

Finally, John turned to his brother again, changing the topic to something lighter as he leaned heavily on one elbow. “Aren’t you tired? Didn’t you have to wake up early for school this morning?”

“Didn’t _you_ have to wake up for work?” he asked back with an honestly impressive amount of sass and an unimpressed roll of his eyes. “It’s not _that_ late.”

“It’s almost midnight.”

“Eleven thirty.” 

“Exactly– almost midnight.” 

Alex snorted at the exchange as he reached for another slice of pizza. “Leave him alone, he doesn’t have school tomorrow. One late night won’t hurt.”

“Hmm fine,” John teased, pretending he actually had to consider and then turning to level a stare at Jemmy. “But if you’re going to stay up late, you have to tell me all about school and everything I’ve missed over the last few months. Got it?”

Jemmy flashed him a grin, the bright light of the kitchen reflecting off of his braces as he sat up straighter and nodded. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby Laurenses <3
> 
> what if... you commented on this chapter... and made my day... haha just kidding... unless...? 
> 
> Come hang on tumblr if you want to experience me at my most unhinged @ilovefoodandgirls


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Alex woke the next morning– more well-rested than he had intended since John had _insisted_ he go to bed and that whatever he wanted to work on could wait– only momentarily thrown off by the unfamiliar surroundings before his brain kicked into gear enough to remember where he was. He glanced around at John’s childhood bedroom, decorated how he had left it before leaving for college, sports posters and matching wooden furniture and pictures of his high school friends propped up on his desk. Alex must have shifted the mattress as he woke up, because John made a muffled, sleepy noise and wrapped an arm around him, tugging him closer and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. 

“Mmm good morning.” He could feel John pressing up against him from behind, and he shifted his ass back into it, grinding himself against the hardness he could feel through pajama pants. 

John groaned, low and slightly desperate, and tightened his hold. “Fuck, Alex,” he breathed, voice still thick with sleep. 

“Shhh, don’t want your family to hear you,” he teased, grabbing John’s hand and pressing it to his front, letting him feel where his own cock was starting to fill out. “Yes,” he sighed in encouragement– barely more than a whisper– when John picked up the hint and gripped him more firmly, moving his hand in slow, haphazard strokes as he rolled his hips up against him. “Missed this,” he admitted, his voice breathy and reverent as John applied more pressure and– _fuck_ – how long had it been since they’d last done this? Over a week? It felt like far too long. 

“Then don’t work yourself up into such a frenzy over stupid shit,” John told him softly, pressing a gentle kiss right behind his ear that made Alex shiver. “You get so much tunnel vision when it comes to work, sometimes I’m worried I’ll never be able to pull you out. Should I be worried that Washington has so much of your attention?” he teased, using his free hand to brush aside stray strands of hair so he could kiss down Alex’s neck. 

His laugh was cut off by a sharp gasp as John bit down lightly. “Don’t be gross. He’s our _boss_.”

“Sometimes,” John said, pressing the words into his skin between kisses, warm breath raising hairs on his neck. “I feel like you’re more concerned about pleasing him than you are about pleasing _me._ ” Alex flinched because _that_ hit a little too close to home, and yeah, maybe he _had_ been a little too focused on trying to fix his reputation in Washington’s eyes over the last week, but what was he supposed to do? Just let his career fall apart? 

God, thinking about all of _that_ right now was doing _nothing_ for him, and he wasn’t about to let the mood die over something so stupid. “John, if you don’t stop talking about him I’m never sucking your dick again.” 

John breathed a quiet laugh right by his ear and wrapped his arm around his waist tighter, pulling him in even closer against the warmth that seemed to radiate from his skin. “Sorry, sorry.” 

“Sure, _now_ you’re sorry. Only after I’ve threatened cutting off your supply of blow jobs.” He huffed in mock indignation, grinding back more insistently against John’s front. “I feel so _used_.”

“Forgive me?” John asked with an air of innocence, but Alex could practically hear the smug smile in his voice as he slipped his hand down the front of Alex’s pajamas and got it on his cock properly, eliciting a sharp gasp at the sudden contact. “Please?”

Alex let out a shaky exhale as John traced his fingers down his shaft, all the way to the base, then back up. “Think you’re gonna have to prove how sorry you are first.” 

John rolled his hips forward again, moving at a lazy, unhurried pace. “What sort of apology did you have in mind?” 

“One that won’t make a mess of your sheets.” 

“I don’t give a damn about that,” John said, voice low and still rough from sleep, his accent just barely slipping in. 

Alex grinned and leaned his head back to try and look at him. “Well, _I do_. I don’t want your dad realizing we had sex in his house when you go to put your sheets in the laundry after the first night. Pretty obvious give away.”

“Yeah, alright. Fine.” He trailed his fingers up and down Alex’s length a few more times before pulling the blankets off of them both and gently pushing Alex down onto his back. He crawled down the bed, peeling off Alex’s pajamas and kneeling between his legs, licking his lips as he took in the sight of him. 

Alex flushed under his gaze, knew how he looked, hard and eager and desperate for that mouth and lips and _tongue_ on him. He squirmed on the sheets, as he waited, needing John to get to it soon before he just forced his hand back to his cock, the sheets be damned. 

“Not even sure why I’m arguing with you,” John told him with a grin, playful spark behind his eyes. “Not like I don’t love the way you taste.”

* * *

When they slipped into the dining room for breakfast, freshly showered and dressed for the day, John couldn’t help the feeling that everyone _knew_ what they had been up to. Ridiculous considering his father’s bedroom was a floor up, and they had been perfectly discreet really, save for a few words that were maybe a bit too loud. But still, he did his best to avoid anyone’s gaze too directly as he piled scrambled eggs onto his plate. 

“Morning,” Harry said from across the table with a slightly too knowing smirk, already halfway finished with his own plate. “You just wake up?”

“Yeah,” John said lightly, trying to school his expression. Shit, if _anyone_ had heard, it would be Harry. His room was closest to John’s after all. “How’d your _homework_ go last night? Finish it all?” he shot back, maintaining his carefully neutral expression as Harry just shrugged. 

“Not all of it. Busy week.” 

John’s father cleared his throat as he put down his mug, giving his little brother a stern look. “Harry, would you _please_ introduce yourself to our guest? You’re being terribly impolite.” 

Alex’s face turned a slight shade of red as he reached across for the tray of muffins in the middle of the table, having to lean forward a little bit to grab the one he wanted. “It’s fine, really.”

But Harry just smirked and shot an amused grin across the table at Alex. “No, father’s right of course. I’m being _terribly_ rude. Nice to meet you, Alexander. I’m Harry, as I’m sure you just heard.” He glanced over to the head of the table where their father had gone back to scrolling through the morning’s news on his iPad again, content that his son was following his instructions, and let the smirk slip back onto his face. “Sorry, I completely forgot an introduction was necessary,” he said with an innocent shrug. “Your name’s become so familiar around here with everyone freaking out over the– frankly hilarious– insults you sent to that di–”

“ _Harry_ ,” their father scolded, sharp and with a stern glare that seemed to burn right through the stale air. John couldn’t tell if the backlash was to stop him from using profanity at the table or just for bringing up the whole thing in the first place. 

Alex seemed to find the whole situation somewhat funny though, judging by the way he was _clearly_ biting down on his lip to stop himself from laughing. 

“Sorry,” Harry said lightly, stabbing another bite of eggs. “Just making conversation.”

Their father shot him an unamused look but let the matter drop. “Jack, just a reminder that we’ll have to leave pretty soon for Columbia to meet with the PR team before the interview. The car should be here in about twenty minutes.”

Alex glanced over at John, brows raised as if to say _Really? He’s having a fucking car sent?_ but he pursed his lips and kept his mouth shut. 

“Alright,” John said with a nod, pointedly ignoring Alex’s look. “Be ready in twenty minutes. Got it.”

His father leveled a stare over the edge of his mug as he took another sip of coffee. “Be ready in _fifteen,_ ” he corrected. “And _please_ put on a tie.”

“Got it.” John could hear his own voice taking on a sharper edge as the condescension cut against his nerves. He forced a few more mouthfuls of food down, but he suddenly wasn’t quite as hungry as he had been, and he pushed his chair back from the table– a little too roughly– as he excused himself to comply with his father’s request. Alex was quick to follow, clearly not too thrilled at the prospect of being left behind at a table with just his younger brother and father. 

Once they finally had the privacy of a thick, wooden door separating them from the rest of his family, John let out a frustrated sigh. “I swear he treats me like I’m a fucking teenager again every time I come home,” he griped, digging through his suitcase for a tie that would match his outfit, hoping he wouldn’t have to change his shirt too just to find something that worked. 

“Here, you want one of mine? This one goes,” Alex offered, tossing a navy blue tie across the room at him. 

John held it up in front of him, looking himself over in the mirror on the door. “Yeah, thanks,” he said, slipping it behind his collar.

“Should I wear a tie too?”

“Uh,” John said, trying to focus on tying a neat knot. “If you want. You don’t _have_ to.”

He heard Alex start to rummage through his bag again behind him. “I will. Don’t want to be the odd man out, even _if_ we’re gonna look like co-presidents of the Young Republicans Club.” John snorted as he adjusted the length and flipped his collar back down then turned to see Alex finishing up with his own tie. “So, he’s got his own _driver_ huh?”

John rolled his eyes and shifted his focus back to the mirror to give himself a final once over. “I _knew_ you wouldn’t be able to let that slide.”

Alex just flashed him a cheeky grin from behind, making sure that John could see him in the reflection.

“It’s a long drive and his office sends someone to pick him up for work-related stuff." 

“Of _course_ it’s a long drive,” Alex grumbled. “This state is too fucking big. This is why I prefer New York. Just shove millions of people on an island instead. Much easier.”

“Yeah, and then it takes just as long to get anywhere because of traffic and gridlock and shit.”

“Okay but there’s subways, trains, just walking. Don’t fight me on this, it’s _better_ and you know it.”

“Yeah, it is,” John agreed with a laugh, feeling a little lighter just for this quick moment alone with him. He grabbed Alex’s hand and pulled him closer, leaning in for what he intended to be a quick kiss. 

Alex clearly had other ideas as he parted his lips and pressed his tongue inside John’s mouth, running a hand back into hair and holding him close. John made a short, surprised noise into the kiss, but let Alex deepen it, their lips and tongues moving together, practiced and familiar. Eventually Alex pulled back, biting at John’s lower lip before pressing a final, chaste kiss to his cheek. “Love you,” he said with a smug grin as John took a second to catch his breath. And then, “Come on, we’re cutting it dangerously close on that fifteen minutes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it obvious yet that couples sharing clothes is one of my favorite tropes? 
> 
> Leave comments down below!
> 
> Come hang on tumblr @ilovefoodandgirls


	53. Chapter 53

Alex glanced around Senator Laurens’s– _Henry’s_ – South Carolina office. _God that sounded weird_ , he thought to himself, trying not to cringe. He took in the specific style that combined old and formal and _expensive_ that seemed to be so crucial to decorating political spaces with just a little bit of awe, though he tried to keep his expression neutral. The last thing he wanted right now was to embarrass himself by seeming naive and inexperienced by being impressed by an _office_. Especially in front of John’s father. 

He couldn’t help but wonder– if Washington wanted him on his campaign– if this would be his life soon enough. Intimidating offices in fancy, old buildings, teams of people constantly scrambling to make sure everything ran smoothly. There was a distinct feeling of _importance_ to it that drew Alex in like a moth to a flame and made his heart churn for the chance to prove that he could do it– that he could be _valuable_ to an operation like this. 

And hopefully Washington’s office would have more important matters to deal with than a gay family member being outed on Twitter. 

He followed John’s lead and sat on the leather couch in the far corner of the office, the two of them waiting there while Henry talked with his assistant outside. 

“You don’t have to sit through all of this, you know,” John told him, leaning against the back of the couch and looking just a little exhausted. “If you wanted to go find a place to get coffee or something that’d be fine. It’s going to be pretty boring, honestly. I know you didn’t bring your laptop or anything, but you could catch up on your emails.” 

Alex leaned his head against John’s shoulder and sighed, kind of got the sense that John _wanted_ to get rid of him. “Nah, I’ll stay.”

“You sure?”

He shrugged, trying not to feel too defensive. John was stressed after all. “I mean, I know you think it’s boring, but I’m kind of interested in how this shit actually goes down. A behind the scenes look and all that, you know?”

John didn’t pick up his head, but he shrugged his shoulder where Alex wasn’t resting against him. “Yeah, I guess.”

Alex rolled his neck to peer up at John’s face, taking in the slight tension in his posture. “You sleep last night?”

“On and off.” 

“Did the world flip upside down while I wasn’t looking? I got a full night’s sleep and _you_ were up half the night?”

John finally picked up his head to glance down at that, raising an eyebrow. “You do realize five and half hours isn’t a ‘full night’s sleep’ right?”

Alex waved it off. “Close enough. I fell asleep and _stayed_ asleep.” He heard John breathe a quiet laugh, but he didn’t get a chance to say anything else before the door to the office opened again, Henry ushering in a small team, all dressed in crisp suits and looking incredibly put together considering they probably just flew in from DC the other night as well. 

“John,” one of the women addressed him with a wide smile as she crossed the room. John stood up to accept the hand she stretched out towards him. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Nice to see you, Jess.” Alex was already standing up in anticipation when John motioned towards him. “This is Alex.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Alex,” she said with a firm handshake. Alex pushed down the thought that she _must_ already know who he was. Considering he was basically the _reason_ they were all here. “Jess Davis. I head the senator’s communications team.” Alex tried to hide the surprise on his face. He had expected some stiff old guy to be in charge, especially considering Henry’s platform of family values and all the typical conservative bullshit. 

“Yeah, nice to meet you too.” 

If she suspected his surprise at all, she did a good job of masking it. “Well, sit down, boys,” she told them with a light laugh, already taking a seat in one of the armchairs next to the couch as the other members of the team filled in around them, Henry taking the spot next to John. “We have a decent amount to go over after all. Did anyone bring coffee?” she added, raising a brow. 

Henry smiled amicably with a short nod in her direction. “My assistant’s already on it, Jess. No need to worry.”

Her smile widened by a degree. “Perfect. Let’s get started then, shall we?” She turned her focus on John, and Alex could feel him shift just barely on the couch, uncomfortable with the attention but not wanting to show it. “Alright, John. I know you and your father have talked, and I’ve talked to him of course, but I want to make sure we’re all on the same page. Obviously we can’t spoon feed them every question that they’re going to ask, but tell me how much you’re actually comfortable discussing, and we can go over the talking points that we’ve brought up with the publication running the interview, and we can decide as a group what’ll work and what won’t. Sound good?”

John nodded, but before he could actually say anything, Jess started rattling off more information and suggestions. 

Alex got the feeling she wasn’t from the area herself– her fast-paced style and direct energy seeming to fit any of the cities in the north far better than the bible belt– and it put him at ease a little as he listened to her rapid fire questions and answers. 

“So, first things first, how much do you actually want to discuss?”

Alex was pretty sure the actual answer was _none of it_ , but John gave her practiced smile and shrugged. “However much they need to know, I suppose.”

“Wrong answer.” Alex almost wanted to laugh at how taken aback John looked at her blunt response. “We’re trying to control the narrative. The last thing you want to do is offer them whatever they _need to know_. After all, they don’t need to know anything, right? You’re giving them private information, and they’ll take what they’re getting, no more, no less. So, let’s try that one again, what do you _actually want_ to discuss?”

Alex watched John’s brow furrow in concentration as he had to actually think through his response now, his cookie cutter answer not sufficient. “I mean, I guess the most important thing I want to get across is that this isn’t a shameful secret or anything.” He laid a hand on Alex’s knee. “I’m not ashamed of it, and my father isn’t ashamed of it. That he’s known for years, and the only reason no one else has known until now is because it’s private, and it’s really none of their business.” 

Jess grinned, jotting a few notes down on a legal pad in her lap. “That’s a bit better. We can work off of that.” Her face grew a little more serious as she switched gears. “Now, it’s a right leaning publication. Which is _good_ of course, but they’re going to ask about the senator’s stances on religious freedom as it pertains to current legislative agendas– to ensure that his policies won’t change based on all of this coming to the public’s attention– and we need to be prepared for that.”

Alex grimaced a little at the term _religious freedom_ – bullshit term for freedom to discriminate without consequence– and the notion that Henry _shouldn’t_ change his bigoted policy positions, but kept his mouth shut for the moment. As if he could feel the shift in Alex’s mood, John squeezed at his knee. Or maybe he was just as annoyed by the wording and trying to reassure himself with the contact. 

Henry cleared his throat. “We already discussed my responses to that sort of thing. I’ll field any questions involving policy of course.”

“Due respect, sir, but they may direct that sort of thing towards John as well, looking for his opinion on it, maybe looking for chinks in the armor as it were. It’s best to be prepared with potential responses.”

He sighed, but nodded as if to say _go on_. 

“Obviously we want a unified message. If they ask for how you feel about your father’s legislative positions, John, I’d advise you to keep things short– just tell them how you and your family have a close, loving relationship, and you support your father and his advocacy for his constituents’ rights to follow their religion as they see fit. That sound alright?”

Alex wanted to roll his eyes. Didn’t. He could hold himself in check for a few hours after all. 

But John looked tense, let out a barely audible sigh as he nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine.” 

“Repeat the talking points back to me,” she told him in that no-nonsense manner. “Need to make sure everything sounds good.” 

He took a deep breath and launched into his spiel, sounding a bit stiff and rehearsed.“If they bring up my father’s political positions on laws regarding religious freedom, I’m going to tell them I support his work to advocate for his constituents and their right to practice their religion freely. And that my family is very close and supportive of me.” He stared down at his own hand on Alex’s knee for a moment. “I could add in that I was raised with strong Christian values and that we went to Church every Sunday, and that I wouldn’t want that right to practice religion freely denied to anyone?” 

Alex bit down hard on the inside of his cheek now because it was getting harder not to say anything. It’s not like John fucking went to church anymore now that it wasn’t an _obligation_. Seemed a little disingenuous to paint himself as _benefitting_ from these garbage policies. As if anyone was actually _attacking_ Christianity in the fucking bible belt. 

But Henry smiled, pleased with the addition, and Jess nodded along. “Sure, that’ll work. As long as you’re comfortable with it.”

John shrugged. “Yeah, sure.” He squeezed at Alex’s knee again, but the contact felt less comforting and more confining. 

“If they ask anything too invasive, just bring it back to your right to privacy, and that you’re dealing with this as a family. That you appreciate the support you’ve been given. It should be a fairly short, straightforward interview, but remember that you don’t _have_ to answer anything that doesn’t sit well with you. We looked for a publication that would be pretty favorable towards the situation and paint things how we’d like them depicted, but you know how the media can get,” she told him with a shrug. “You never know who might try and get a rise out of you just to get a better story out of it. Use your discretion and don’t feed into anything that seems like it’s leading down a path we don’t want to go down.” She turned that intent, focused gaze on Henry now, glancing down just briefly at her own notes. “And of course senator, feel free to step in if you think anything they’re asking is out of line. I can hardly see anyone reacting poorly to you standing up for your son. I trust you’ve done this enough times to feel out the situation and recognize when that’s called for.” 

“Of course, Jess, of course.” He crossed one leg over the other, leaning forward a bit. “So, what else do we need to go over?”

She turned her eyes on Alex now. _Shit._ He felt a little like a deer caught in the headlights as she assessed him, thoughtful look on her face, and he wanted to squirm. He forced his body to remain still instead, returning her gaze with as much calm as he could manage. “Alex, will _you_ be joining the senator and John for the interview?”

He swallowed hard, his brows pulling in towards the middle of his forehead as he tried to determine the best course of action here. Was that even allowed? Did he even _want_ to be a part of this fiasco? “Um, am I supposed to?” 

Henry turned towards him, but Alex kept his eyes focused on Jess as she shrugged lightly. “You’re here, aren’t you? I can’t see the interviewer having any sort of problem with that. If anything, they’d probably be thrilled– allows for a better story after all considering everything that, uh, prompted all of this– and on our end it just solidifies that we’re all on the same page. I think it would help the overall image, to be quite honest. And I doubt they’ll ask you much. You’d just have to sit there really, maybe answer a few softer questions. Nothing too bad.” 

Before he could answer himself, John spoke up, frowning. “It’s not really fair to spring this on Alex last minute. I think we could–”

Alex cut him off quickly before he had a chance to stop himself. “I don’t mind,” he insisted, his eyes sparking with the challenge of it. Fuck it. He wasn’t exactly sure what possessed him to say it, and he’d have to hold himself back from bringing up anything that might get him booted from the next family get together with John’s family, but it was a hell of a lot better than sitting off to the side and watching with no voice at all as John tried to navigate this whole situation that was at least partially Alex’s fault. He flashed his most charming grin at Jess, as he tried to look as earnest as possible. “Really, it’s not a problem. I’d like to be a part of it. To show my support of course.” 

“Alexander,” Henry said with a strained smile, looking just a little tense. “That’s really not necessary.”

“Thank you,” he said with a brief glance in Henry’s direction, as if his words were truly meant to reassure Alex, and weren’t actually some sort of coded warning. “But I really don’t mind. It’s important to show we’re all on the same page after all, isn’t it?” Henry pursed his lips, but Jess was practically beaming, clearly pleased at how readily Alex seemed to latch onto the idea. 

“Alright, great,” she chirped. “We should just go over a few more points then, make sure we’re prepped for anything that might come up. Don’t want any surprises.”

Henry cleared his throat, glancing first at Alex, then fixing his stare on John. “I really don’t think–”

To Alex’s surprise, John cut him off right there in front of his staff, a little of the spark from Alex’s eyes reflected back in his own. “Father, it’s _fine_. If Alex wants to be there with us, he should be able to. He’s pretty involved in all of _this_ after all.” He motioned between the two of them with that last sentence, and Alex had to bite back the smug grin that threatened to slip onto his face. “I hope you realize this is more about me and Alex than it is about you, and that he has every right to be involved.”

Henry was quiet for a moment, as if deciding how to react with so many others present, watching them. Alex had to think that Jess’s enthusiasm for his presence at the interview swayed Henry at least a little when he faltered, and finally, grudgingly, acquiesced. “Alright then. If both of you are on board and willing to stick to our preplanned talking points, I have no objections.”

Alex grinned up at John for just a second, caught him smiling back at him, and when he slid his hand a little higher up to rest on his thigh the contact suddenly didn’t feel so stifling anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our boys are going into the lion's den... 
> 
> Leave comments down below!


	54. Chapter 54

John glanced up at the door, nervously bouncing his leg as they waited for the journalist to show up. He was grateful for Alex’s presence at his side, sitting next to him on the couch. Just having him there made him feel a little bit steadier, a little bit braver. A reminder that he wasn’t just doing this for _himself_ but for both of them. John looked over at him, taking a sip of coffee from one of the cheap styrofoam cups that had been brought in, and tried to calm his own nerves. 

This was really just a formality after all. Everyone already knew he was gay. Knew about him and Alex. It was out there, clear as day, and the world hadn’t come crashing down around him. If he could survive _that_ , he could survive anything. Still, he felt his heart jump in his throat when his father’s assistant spoke over the intercom to tell him the journalist was here and when, a second later, he was ushered in the door. 

John took in the guy’s appearance as he made his way over– late thirties or early forties, wearing a suit that was just a little bit too loose, a thick pair of glasses drawing attention away from hair that was starting to go gray. Overall, not particularly threatening, but there was something in his eyes, a sort of sharp, intent focus, that made John second guess that first impression. Or maybe it was just that, growing up in a political spotlight, he had always been told to be wary of journalists. Either way, it was slightly disconcerting, and he did his best to focus on the feel of Alex next to him once again, reminding himself that this was nothing, not even a bump in the road, considering everything else they had gone through. 

He followed his father’s lead, standing up for a quick round of introductions– even the guy’s name didn’t sound particularly threatening, Liam Liddell– before they all got settled again. Most of the communications team was standing off to the side now, giving them space so as not to overcrowd the interview itself, but Jess stayed in that same chair, close enough to keep an eye on everything. John was glad to have her stick around, an additional authority figure to keep things running smoothly if they started to veer off course, but not quite as uptight as his father regarding what _on course_ ought to look like. 

“So,” Liam began, setting a recorder down on the coffee table in front of them with little fuss. “Let’s get started then, shall we?” He pulled a pen and a notebook from his bag as well and crossed his legs, settling in and focusing his gaze on John’s father. “Senator, I wanted to speak to you first. I’m sure it’s been a hectic week with everything going on. How have you been handling your son’s relationship being thrust into the view of the public so suddenly?”

John watched his father’s face rather than Liam’s, noticing the slight uncomfortable crease in his forehead before he eased his expression back to that carefully curated mask of polite indifference. “Well, as I’m sure you can guess, _every_ week is a hectic one in my position, and this week was no different than the rest of them in that regard. I’m a very busy man, Liam. As far as my son’s private life, that’s not something I’ve ever felt the need to manage.” He shrugged coolly, eyebrows raised. John couldn’t help the dissonant twinge along his nerves because that was a fucking lie. He had been maneuvered and guided into doing and saying the right thing, acting the right way, since he was old enough to walk and talk on his own. And the pressure to maintain that image had only grown through his teenage and college years. “I am of course disappointed that someone felt it was appropriate to drag my son’s personal business out into the open as a means of trying to attack me. I think anyone in politics, or anyone at all with a conscience for that matter, would tell you that kids are off limits when it comes to attacks like this one. It’s honestly hard to imagine what goes through someone’s head to think that sort of behavior is acceptable.”

“Of course,” Liam said with a nod, his expression serious as he hurried to jot down something in his notebook. “Now, your family has always been very close from what I understand, Senator Laurens. Of course, we’ve seen your children in the paper and at campaigning events from the earliest days of your career, and they all seem very supportive of you. Has this situation changed any of that?”

His father’s lips twitched up a little bit, but John could read that look well enough after years and years of monitoring those reactions, looking for signs of approval or displeasure with everything he did. It was more of a forced smile than anything, covering his own annoyance with the question, but he sounded composed and perfectly pleasant when he answered. “Of course not. Family’s always been the most important thing in our house, and I do my best to make sure all of my kids know that. John and I are as close as ever, and I’m proud of the relationship we have.”

“And John– can I call you John?”

John raised his eyebrows, blinking a couple of times and doing his best not to roll his eyes at the absurdity of the question. “Yeah, of course.” If this guy started calling him _Mr. Laurens_ or some shit like that he’d probably have to excuse himself. 

“So John,” he started again, eyeing him with his head tilted just slightly to the side. “This must be quite a new feeling, all of this attention focused on _you_ rather than just on your father.”

John looked to Jess briefly, but he knew she couldn’t really help him out at this point. What he _really_ wanted to say was _That wasn’t a question_ , but he had seen his father sit through enough interviews to know the intention, and to know how he was expected to respond. He put on his blandest smile, nodded. “It’s been an interesting week for sure. My father’s been in politics since I was young though, so it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.” He shrugged. “Nothing I don’t know how to deal with. I’m just glad to have support from my family, Mr. Liddell. Support that other people might not receive. I’m very lucky in that regard.”

“And do any of your political differences cause tension in that bond?”

“I’m not sure when we started talking about my political views, but if you’re asking whether the fact that I’m _gay_ has caused any strain in our family, then no, I don’t think it has.” He could practically feel his father’s eyes on him, because of _course_ they were trying to go through a whole interview about him being gay without actually ever _saying it_. That was the usual strategy after all, just shuffle around all of the uncomfortable topics so they didn’t have to address them head on. “When I came out to my father he was willing to learn and try his best, which is all anyone can hope for honestly. As for the rest of my family, everything’s the same as it ever was. Like you mentioned before, our family is very close, and them knowing who I love isn’t going to change any of that.” It was a weird combination of what he knew he was expected to say sprinkled with little bits of more direct honesty, but he could feel his tongue start to loosen up the more he spoke, getting a little bit braver, and it tasted good. 

Liam just smiled, writing down a few more notes as he caught up. “Of course. And how long have you and Alexander been together?”

John’s eyes narrowed. “Is that relevant?” 

Seemingly unfazed by the sudden defensiveness, Liam shrugged lightly. “Just curious. Perfectly fine if you’d rather not comment on it.”

John glanced over towards Alex, could see his brow furrowed at the interaction but his mind was too focused on how to answer the journalist to really parse out Alex’s reaction to any of this. He tried to latch onto what he could remember of Jess’s advice. “Yes, I’d rather not comment on any of the private details of my relationship.”

Liam nodded, and John was pretty sure he caught a flash of disappointment in his expression, but he hid it well behind bland professionalism. John felt a swell of smug satisfaction at not letting this guy bait him, lead him into saying something stupid, but it quickly dissolved into concern as he turned his attention to Alex instead. 

“Alexander, I was happy to see that you were joining us as well today.”

John was almost jealous of how instantly Alex changed his expression to one of relative ease as he flashed a smile in Liam’s direction. “Thank you, Mr. Liddell. Glad I could make it.” He reached over and placed a light hand on John’s thigh. 

“By now a lot of people have seen the tweet that propelled your relationship to public attention. What was going through your head when you sent those messages?” 

Oh god. John bit at the inside of his cheek, almost hoping Alex would refuse to comment as well. But _that_ was obviously a ridiculous wish. _Of course_ Alex was going to answer. John was pretty sure _no comment_ wasn’t in his extensive vocabulary. 

Alex breathed a quiet laugh beside him. “Well, I definitely wasn’t thinking he was going to screenshot them and post them publicly.” He gave half a shrug, still looking far more composed than John would have been in the same situation. “Look, I was obviously pretty upset to see some stranger on the internet trying to violate John’s privacy just to take a cheap shot at his dad. I don’t regret acting quickly to try and defend that privacy, and I know John would do the same to try and protect me. I think I acted how most people would if they were put in the same situation. Defending the people you care about is only natural.”

Liam quickly scribbled a few more notes before continuing. “And has the increased visibility from that tweet affected you?”

Alex smirked a little. “I have much more important things to do than scroll through my twitter notifications. It was honestly kind of funny that I happened to see that guy’s tweet in the first place considering how little time I spend on there.” He took a sip of coffee. “So, no. I’ve been pretty successfully ignoring whatever people are saying about it.”

“And the two of you work together, is that correct?”

Alex barely had his mouth open before his father cut in. “I _really_ don’t think that’s within the scope of this interview, Liam.” He gave the journalist a sharp look, a silent command to stick to the agreed upon script. 

Liam pursed his lips for a moment, but nodded. “Of course, Senator.” He flipped to another page in his notebook, read over a few notes that had clearly been prepared ahead of time. “You’ve supported a few pieces of legislation protecting religious liberty as it pertains to such areas as businesses and adoption agencies. Does having a gay son alter your positions at all?” 

John felt Alex’s fingers tense against his thigh a little bit, but he otherwise didn’t react. 

“My son is aware that I represent the entire state of South Carolina. I vote in accordance with my constituents and the party that they voted into office, as any good elected official should. This country was in large part founded on religious liberty, and I feel a strong sense of duty in protecting that right for the people of my state.”

His father looked calm enough with that question. Maybe slightly uncomfortable, but he had expected it, and he knew his planned response. The entire room was quiet except for the scratching of pen on paper, and John got the feeling things might be wrapping up when the silence was suddenly interrupted by Alex clearing his throat. “Um, can I say something on that?”

John turned his head, only slightly, to try and get an idea of his father’s reaction without giving away that he was doing just that. His eyebrows shot up, his face almost pale, his hands clasped a little tighter in his lap. So, not a _good_ reaction probably. Liam on the other hand looked pretty damn eager to hear what Alex had to say. “Of course.”

“When you’re only using religious liberty to deny certain people their rights, and not to protect those people who _aren’t_ Christian from the disproportionate number of hate crimes that are aimed at them, then the whole guise of religious freedom sort of falls apart doesn’t it? Allowing people to discriminate against whoever they want isn’t exactly the pinnacle of religious excellence after all.” The room fell silent. Even the scratching of Liam’s pen had died out momentarily as he stared at Alex with his mouth hanging just slightly open. Surely this was better than he could have hoped for. When no one responded though, Alex pressed on, either unaware of the general unease settling over the rest of them or blatantly ignoring it. “I’m not saying the Senator _isn’t_ doing what his constituents are expecting of him,” he added with a shrug. “At least those who weren’t disenfranchised by all of the regulations making it harder to vote, but when what’s expected by his constituents is quite clearly _wrong_ , I would think any upstanding elected official would stand his ground and do what’s right rather than what’s going to get him reelected.” 

John felt his heart nearly stop as he watched his father’s knuckles go white where he had them clasped together in his lap. He turned to try and catch Alex’s eye. To send some sort of silent warning signal before he could do anymore damage, but as he leaned back and took another sip of his coffee he seemed– thankfully– done with his impromptu speech. His eyes had that spark of challenge in them that John usually saw when he was locked in debate with someone at work, and he could tell he was just itching to hear his father’s response. 

As Liam’s brain seemed to catch up with his senses, he started scribbling down notes furiously on the page in front of him, and that action seemed to finally spur his father into speaking. “Clearly,” he started, speaking slowly and making sure Liam had time to catch his words. “We aren’t all on the same page politically, but a little disagreement is healthy of course. It’s always good to keep our minds open to different viewpoints.” 

Before anyone could say anything else, a knock on the door interrupted them, his father’s assistant appearing in the doorway a moment later, too perfectly timed to _not_ be planned. “Sir, you have a call in ten minutes.”

His father flashed an apologetic smile at Liam. “So sorry, but we’ll have to be wrapping things up I’m afraid. It was good to speak with you today, Liam. Jess is going to follow you out, and the two of you can work out the details. Does that work for you?”

“Yes, of course, Senator. Thank you for your time today. And it was nice to meet you John, Alexander,” he added, packing up his things and climbing to his feet. 

John just forced a smile onto his face and nodded, but Alex grinned right back at him. “It was a pleasure.” 

When Jess got up to walk him into the lobby, the rest of the communications team filed out after them, leaving behind just John, his father, and Alex in the office. John could practically feel his heart pounding against his ribs, every muscle too tense as he waited for the other shoe to drop, but when his father finally got up from the couch, paced towards his desk, and opened his mouth to speak, his voice was carefully composed. “Alexander, would you mind waiting outside for a moment?” 

Still sitting on the couch next to him, Alex glanced up to meet John’s eyes, that satisfied spark finally dying down as concern started to set in. “Do you want me to–?” 

John cut him off before he could even finish the question. “Just wait outside.” He realized how short it sounded a second after he spoke and attempted to soften it a bit when he saw Alex purse his lips. “Look up somewhere nearby to grab lunch on your phone, okay? I’m starving. We can grab something once we finish up here.” 

Alex deflated a little, but nodded as he stood. “Yeah sure. I’ll be out in the reception area.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a minute! 
> 
> Leave comments down below please :)


	55. Chapter 55

John flinched when his father turned sharply, standing behind his desk with one palm leaning heavily against it as he locked eyes with him. Knew it was bad when his voice came out in a low, dangerous hiss rather than a shout. John had years of experience dealing with father’s moods, his reactions to things, and this particular variety really hammered home the fact that he was downright pissed, but too worried about appearances to really go at it. If he was just _mildly_ upset, his father would have waited, saved his outburst for later, where he could yell in the privacy of his own home. The fact that he was doing this here at all, in his office, was proof that Alex’s words had gotten under his skin. 

“That crossed a line.” He leveled a harsh stare across the room at John as he took a few steps closer, leaning a hand on the back of the chair across from the desk rather than sitting in it, subconsciously mirroring his father’s posture. 

John squared up his shoulders, more confident now that the journalist and all the people on his father’s staff were out of the room because– fuck– what did it matter? They were just going to keep playing this game, the same song and dance in a never ending loop, unless he threw a wrench in it now. And Alex’s words may have been purposely inflammatory– John suspected they were honestly– but at least he was willing to stand up and say something while everyone else was only too content to keep skirting the real issues so as not to alienate any potential voters. Because it would be a goddamn shame if anyone knew that a politician had a brain _and_ a backbone. 

When John only stared, intent and unblinking in response, his father breathed a short, frustrated huff. “Today was supposed to be a chance to salvage this whole fiasco after _he_ carelessly meddled in things and made the whole situation blow up in the first place, and now he has the audacity to challenge my positions–”

“Hey hold on,” John cut in sharply, anger and frustration starting to bubble high in his chest. “Alex didn’t cause any of this. _You_ encouraged me to hide any relationships I might have so that the press wouldn’t hear about it.” He gripped his fingers more tightly into the back of the leather chair. “And the only reason I kissed Alex outside the restaurant was because I was so riled up from the shit you were saying at lunch. _That’s_ the reason that guy got his goddamn picture for twitter in the first place. And none of it would have fucking mattered if you just treated this all like it was _normal_ instead of trying to hide the fact that I’m gay.”

“Watch your language, Jack,” his father hissed, his free hand clenched into a fist at his side. 

John breathed a hysterical laugh. “Really? _That’s_ what you’re going to focus on?” He ran a restless hand back through his hair and tried to calm his anger down into something more useful. “Look, if anything Alex’s response on twitter actually helped you. He at least got the picture taken down with the caption targeting _you_. He got all of that fire directed towards himself instead, and he hasn’t complained once about the fact that if he were dating _anybody else_ this would be a nonissue. He wouldn’t have to _worry_ about random people using our relationship as a gotcha against _your_ politics. And at least he’s willing to publicly defend me against assholes like that guy instead of just issuing some lukewarm statement and continuing to push that part of me off as far to the side as you’re able,” he seethed, aware that the words weren’t making as much sense as he wanted them to. “It really sucks, you know. It sucks for both of us, and I’m honestly glad it’s finally out there so I don’t have to be paranoid worrying about someone finding out every day of my life.” John felt his chest heave as he finished, his breaths too short and fast as he kept his eyes locked across the desk, waiting for a response. 

His father picked his hand up off the desk, straightening up uncomfortably as his expression softened just a fraction. “It was still out of line,” he said, his voice a little more forgiving this time. “What Alexander said, it’s going to reflect poorly on me. We can’t afford too many slip ups this close to an election year.” 

John just shrugged, the action itself feeling petulant, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything else. 

“You don’t want me to lose my reelection, Jack.”

He chewed at the inside of his cheek and shrugged again, bringing his arms up to cross over his chest defensively. 

His father sighed, shaking his head slowly. “You _don’t_. You’re smart enough to know that if they vote me out over fear that I may be moving away from the values of the party, they’re going to replace me with someone who adheres to those values even _more_ strictly. I’m not your enemy, Jack. You know that. Politics is a long game, and you may not always like the way I vote, but I trust you at least know that I’m acting in a way that I think is best rather than assigning blind loyalty to my side of the aisle. If it looks like I am at times, that’s only because I know what I’m doing enough to play the game correctly.” 

John sighed, then circled around to the front of the chair, dropping heavily into it, suddenly too exhausted to keep their standoff going. And, well, he wasn’t _wrong_. “Yeah, I know.” His father sat as well, leaning back in the large desk chair, and studying his son with dark eyes. “You don’t need to worry though, your response was fine. If anything the comments about keeping an open mind or whatever might actually endear you to people who were on the fence without swaying support from your base. It’ll play in your favor.”

“Hmm, I suppose.”

“Jess will tell you the same thing when you debrief with her later. She actually probably encouraged Alex to go in there with us because of the optics for the more moderate, undecided voters. Not that she could have predicted what he would _say_ ,” John told him with a quiet breath of a laugh. It was impossible for _John_ to know exactly what Alex was going to say at any given moment. Heh honestly wasn’t sure even _Alex_ knew what Alex was going to say. “But she knows what she’s doing, and I’m sure she thought his presence in the interview would help show people that you’re not stiff and unmovable when it comes to accepting people who are different from you.” He tried not to cringe at the implication behind those words. “It’ll be fine.”

His father nodded quietly along with his words as John finished speaking, relaxing more comfortably into his seat. “Yes, you’re probably right.” 

“So,” John started slowly, giving his father a questioning look. “Are we good?” 

His brow furrowed as he leaned one arm heavily on his desk. “Well, I’m not thrilled with how that went, but of course I’m not going to hold it against you. I do think you should talk to Alexander about that little stunt though,” he added with a frown. “I can tolerate disagreement, but direct attacks on my positions while he’s a guest at an interview _my office_ arranged is a bit… tactless.”

John felt like he was being scolded again, even if it _was_ directed at Alex, and he had to suppress the urge to groan in frustration. Instead he just nodded, even if he had absolutely no intention of telling Alex off for what he said. “Sure.” 

It was uncomfortably quiet for a moment, and John stared down at his own hands in his lap, not wanting to know if his father was watching him or not. Any of the progress that they had made after that disastrous lunch suddenly felt precarious, like they were starting to slip backwards again and the wrong words _now_ could knock everything out of place. So he waited. 

Finally, his father shifted in his chair, the stiff leather creaking with the movement. “Why don’t you go get lunch? I’m going to stay here for a bit, catch up on things before we head back to the house.”

John hesitated for a minute, then stood. “Do you want me to bring you anything back?”

He waved off the request, and it felt like a dismissal. “I’ll have something delivered. Thank you though. Let me know when you’re headed back.”

“Alright.” John turned around when he got to the door, giving his father a final glance before he left. He was already typing out something, his forehead creased with focus as he worked. John felt like he should say something else, try to reassure him again that everything would be fine, but the words wouldn’t come so he quietly slipped out and closed the door behind him. 

* * *

“So, uh, how badly did I screw things up in there?” They were out at lunch, some cafe nearby that had halfway decent reviews, the two of them seated at a small table, when Alex finally worked up the nerve to ask. 

John didn’t look fazed by the question. “You’re fine, Alex.”

Putting down his food to properly level a stare at him, Alex scoffed. “John, I’m not an idiot. I know that wasn’t _good_. Not that I’d take back anything I said,” he added with a shrug, unable to help himself because, fuck it, he was _right_ , and he didn’t regret emphasizing that point. But still, he knew there’d be damage control now. Inevitable fallout. But it’s not like he could have kept his mouth shut while John was in there answering questions like a goddamn trained parrot. _Someone_ had to say something about how ridiculous those fucking talking points were. “Just tell me how bad it is so I can be prepared for the drive back.”

“Alex, I told you, it’s fine.” John stretched out a hand, reaching for his arm, but Alex snatched it away, John’s insistence that this wasn’t an issue wearing thin on his patience. Much as he wanted to pretend it didn’t bother him, he had been on edge ever since Henry had dismissed him from his office after the interview. All he had been able to think about while he sat in the reception area was how the two of them were in there talking about him. Like he was a problem that needed to be dealt with. 

“And I’m telling _you_ , I know that’s bullshit.”

“Look, can you just accept that not everything has to be a fight?”

“Why?” he snapped. “Because it’s easier to just roll over and take it?”

“Woah.” John’s voice raised to match Alex’s as his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What the hell, Alex? Are you mad at _me_? What did _I_ do?” 

“No,” he said stubbornly, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Sure sounds like it.”

“Well you could have said more in there than just repeating exactly what you were told to say, you know,” he shot back, unable to calm the fire in his veins now that they were talking about it again. He didn’t understand how the fuck John could just sit there and agree with the bullshit his dad spouted time and again. Especially with something like _this_. Something that had affected him so damn much that he had been terrified for anyone to find out they were together. To just pretend it was a complete nonissue and that his father had been welcoming and accepting seemed about as fake as things could get. “I felt like the only one in there who wasn’t a paid poster child for the Republican party for fuck’s sake.” He picked at a piece of crust on his sandwich, finding he wasn’t too hungry anymore. “So, just fucking _tell me_. I know he’s pissed. Did you just nod along with everything he said in there too? Because you didn’t want to fight?” he asked, letting the bitterness coat his words so John couldn’t mistake it for anything else. 

John huffed a frustrated sigh, leaning back and crossing his arms as he glared across the table. “I defended you, actually," he said with a layer of ice in his tone. "About what you said in there and about this whole thing in general. You’re fucking welcome for that I guess.” 

Alex pursed his lips, trying to figure out what to say because he honestly wasn't expecting that. He knew he should probably apologize, but he felt too tightly wound with frustration and misdirected anger to concede that maybe some of his reaction had been premature. “You still should have fucking said something in the interview.” 

“People are staring,” John pointed out bluntly, motioning with a tilt of his head towards a couple a few tables over who quickly turned back to their own conversation, pretending they hadn’t been listening in and gawking at what was admittedly probably some pretty interesting people watching. “Can we please just drop this until we’re back at the house?” 

Alex bit his tongue and sighed unhappily. “Am I even welcome back at that damn house, or should I look for the next ticket back to New York?”

John rolled his eyes at the dramatics. “Of course you’re welcome back at the house. He’s not going to kick you out or anything.” He suddenly breathed a quiet laugh, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “Especially not with the concern that you’ll go to the press and tell them he’s not as tolerant of his gay son’s relationship as he tried to appear.” 

A little bit of the tension and anger rolled off of Alex’s shoulders at the easy joke and the sound of John’s laughter, and he couldn’t help smiling in response. “Don’t give me any ideas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends it's been a minute!
> 
> I had some family stuff going on so writing had to be put on hold for a few days as I traversed the northeast. 
> 
> Leave comments below <3 
> 
> And come hang on tumblr @thatwouldbee-enough (new blog name who dis)


	56. Chapter 56

After an entirely uncomfortable car ride with his father, John and Alex both headed upstairs to change into more comfortable clothing. John glanced up just as Alex was buttoning his jeans, his shirt still hanging open over his bare chest. “So, do you want to talk about it now, or...?”

Alex shrugged, dropping down to sit at the edge of the bed. He thankfully seemed more calm than he had been at lunch. “Not really. But sorry for getting so pissed back there.” John blinked in surprise. He hadn’t _expected_ an apology, even if Alex was in the wrong for getting upset with him. “I shouldn’t have assumed that you wouldn’t stick up for me.”

John chewed at his lower lip and nodded. “Thanks.” He dropped down next to Alex on the bed, staring intently at his own lap. “And sorry for not speaking up in the interview. I know you hate that lukewarm shit, I just can’t fuck everything up for my father, Alex. You get that, right?”

“Why not?” Alex asked insistently, his eyes sharp as he stared straight at John. “I get that he’s your dad and all that family responsibility shit,” he added quickly. “But like– doesn’t that family responsibility extend both ways? He can’t expect you to just play along with everything for the _good of the family_ ,” Alex said, adding air quotes, “while he’s out there opposing bills that could protect you from wrongful termination or hate crimes or whatever else the GOP is against on any given week. It’s hypocrisy.”

“It’s more complicated than that, Alex,” John pressed, looking up at him now and trying to get across his earnestness. 

“How can you keep defending him?” Alex asked, his voice rising as he grew frustrated. “He knows that his son is gay, and yet he doesn’t _say_ anything. His whole party would rather mock the fact that people like you, people like _us_ , exist than actually make sure our rights are protected. How does that not piss you off?” 

Trying to find the answer was like trying to grasp at sand slipping through his fingers. “Like I said, it’s complicated. It’s not like it doesn’t bother me,” he admitted with an uncomfortable shrug. “But I didn’t expect him to suddenly become an activist when I came out to him or anything. He’s trying.” He sighed when Alex scoffed at the sentiment. “ _He is_. He doesn’t say anything against it. And he generally doesn’t vocally support other politicians who do.”

“Yeah, well, voting records are public. You can’t explain that away for him. I don’t care if someone isn’t spouting hate speech, John. I care that they’re actively voting to make our lives worse. How do you reconcile that?”

“And if he loses his seat because he doesn’t vote how they want him to, then what?” John snapped, growing frustrated as well that Alex couldn't seem to look past his own emotions to _understand_. “We get another conservative senator who votes the same or worse. At least I know my father has some sort of conscious. Maybe it’s not as apparent as it should be sometimes, but I’d rather have someone sitting in that seat who might see things clearly and cautiously offer some small support, maybe talk others into concessions where he can, than someone worse who’s going to throw his whole weight behind the party with no thought to any of the rest of us.”

“Do you really believe he’ll do any of that?”

John took a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to parse out his thoughts, filtered through his rapid heartbeat and the ringing in his ears. “Maybe. It’s better than the alternative, isn’t it? He cares about me, Alex.” He gave him a skeptical look, so John reiterated, feeling like he was trying to convince both of them. “He _does_. If he didn’t the whole situation would be a lot worse. He probably would have disowned me or told me I was going to hell. I probably wouldn’t have told him at all if I thought he didn’t care about me.”

“Well, it’s a fucked up way of showing it then.”

Before John could figure out what to say to that, there was a knock at the door, and both of them snapped their heads towards the sound. Alex quickly worked to button up his shirt as John got up.

When he opened the door, Jemmy was standing on the other side, peering around John into his room. “Hey, sorry. Didn’t know if you were busy. I heard y’all get back a little while ago.”

“No, I’m not busy. We were just changing.” He glanced back at Alex, still sitting at the edge of his bed. “What’s up, Jem?” 

“Can you help me with my Spanish homework? I’m stuck on part of it. I think they went over it today while I was out or something, but I have no idea what I’m doing and it’s due when I get back on Monday.”

“Uh.” John hesitated, wondering if Harry might be a better bet for this. “I can try to help, but it’s been a while since I took Spanish. I’m really rusty.”

“Didn’t mom used to speak Spanish with you guys?” 

John shifted uncomfortably, his heart clenching at the casual way he brought her up, too young when she died to really remember. “A little bit. But it was a long time ago now, and I really don’t know how much I remember.” He thought back to that year after her death in high school, dropping out of his advanced Spanish class, even though he would have had no trouble passing it, because every time those words passed over his tongue all he could think of was his mom lying lifeless in her hospital bed. “Sorry,” he told him, and he meant it. He felt like a failure, a fraud, to not even be able to help his little brother with something as simple as this. Felt like he was letting his mom down. 

“I can help,” Alex said from behind them, hopping up from the bed. 

John turned around to catch his eye, surprised. Not surprised that Alex _could help_ , but surprised he was offering. He didn’t have little brothers or sisters. Clearly wasn’t used to family obligations. And no one was expecting it of him. It would be easy to just remain silent and let them figure it out on their own. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” he said with an easy shrug. “Por supuesto.” 

“Gracias,” Jemmy told him, beaming, as Alex let out a laugh. 

“Don’t look so smug, everyone knows that one,” he teased, but gave Jemmy an indulgent smile. “So, what are we working on?”

“Adjectives and classroom objects. I have a packet that I’m working on downstairs.”

John followed the two of them through the house and down to the breakfast nook off of the kitchen. Jemmy’s schoolwork was spread out across the table, and all the heat from John and Alex’s conversation up in his room suddenly melted away as Alex chatted with his brother about classes and homework. 

“Alright, how far did you get?” Alex asked, pulling out one of the chairs and dragging it closer to get a better look. John sat across from the two of them on the other side of the table, noticing Alex leaning towards the paper a little too closely. 

“Did you ever schedule that eye appointment?” he asked, having a sneaking suspicion he already knew the answer.

Alex’s gaze flicked up towards him and he looked almost panicked for a moment. “Shit. I did, but I’m pretty sure it was supposed to be this weekend.” He pulled out his phone, checking the calendar. “Yeah. Shit. I’ll have to call them to cancel.” 

John grimaced as Alex shoved the phone back in his pocket. Just another way this whole situation was inconveniencing Alex. “Sorry.”

Alex waved the apology off. “It’s fine, I can reschedule. Now stop distracting me, we have work to get done over here.” 

He breathed a quiet laugh as Jemmy grinned and started explaining what he was trying to do with the worksheet. 

“The vocab’s fine,” he said, tapping at the words with his pencil. “Anything I didn’t know I could just look up. It’s this part at the bottom that’s giving me trouble. I’m not sure where to put which words in the translations. And I’m not really sure I’m conjugating things right either.”

Alex tilted his head, reading over the bottom half of the assignment. “Okay. Show me how you think this first one should be translated.” 

Jemmy sucked his lower lip in, hesitating as he thought through the sentence in front of him. He glanced up at Alex with an unsure expression. “I’m not sure.”

Alex quirked an eyebrow, the corner of his lip twitching. “I’m not just going to tell you how to do it. The whole point of homework is to make sure you understand what you’re learning. Just translate it how you think it should be, and if it’s right, then great. If not, I’ll explain why.” He gave Jemmy a reassuring smile and a little nod. “If you don’t get in there and try, you’ll never improve.”

He chewed at his lip, but put the pencil to paper and started in on the first example, Alex leaning over his shoulder to look as he worked. John watched the two of them across the table with a soft, fuzzy sort of feeling swelling in his heart, catching himself as he openly grinned at the scene in front of him and had to school his expression. He couldn’t help it. It was just so damn _endearing_ to see Alex like this. It was a shame he didn’t have any little brothers or sisters of his own, considering how good he seemed to be with kids. 

“That’s pretty good!” Alex told Jemmy with a grin and an encouraging nod. “The only thing is you have the noun and adjective switched up,” he said, grabbing the pencil and drawing an arrow to show how it should be formatted. 

“Isn’t the adjective supposed to come first?” Jemmy asked, his brow pulling down. “Like ‘blue notebook’?”

“In English, yeah, but not en español,” Alex said patiently. “In Spanish the noun comes first, then the adjective that’s describing it. Well, most of the time at least.”

“Most of the time?”

“Uh. There are some exceptions. Nothing you’re working with here though.” Alex paused, pressing his lips together in thought. “You know what? Forget I said anything, your teacher will mention it if they come up.”

Jemmy looked like he might press him further on that, but then thought better of it and just shook his head, moving onto the next sentence. “How’s that one?” 

“Las reglas rojos están en el escritorio,” Alex read aloud. “Almost. Your adjective has to match the gender of the word though. _Rojas_ ,” he emphasized, pointing down at the word on the page. 

Jemmy’s brow scrunched again as he erased the word and rewrote it correctly. “You’re pronouncing some of the words wrong.”

Alex scoffed. “I am _not_.”

“Las reglas rojas,” Jemmy repeated, emphasizing the s at the end of each. 

John smirked, amused as he watched Alex huff and roll his eyes. “Yeah, well, you all pronounce get as “git” down here, so don’t get me started on accents. I’m assuming you’re _only_ being taught European Spanish which is honestly kind of dumb. How often are you going to run into a straight-out-of-Spain Spanish speaker on this side of the Atlantic? In practice, you’ll be a lot more likely to hear someone speak like _me_ than like your teacher.”

Jemmy just grinned at him, looking both amused and a little impressed. “Alright, point taken. This sentence is correct now though, right?” 

Alex leaned over the page, mouthing the words to himself. “Yeah, that’s better.” 

* * *

Alex sat side by side with John later that evening, both of them dipping their toes into the river a little ways away from the house, the sound of the rushing water a peaceful backdrop to the evening. He took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill his lungs in a way that he could never do in the city, and stared at the water as he spoke. “Sorry about earlier.”

John’s voice was soft, but with nothing else but the sounds of nature around them, it was clear in his ears. “You mean for what you said in the interview? Because I really didn’t mind that much, Alex. It’s fine.”

“No, I meant sorry for what I said after. When we got back. I know this whole thing with your dad is complicated. I shouldn’t have implied that he doesn’t care about you. That was shitty.”

John’s shoulder brushed his lightly as he kicked his feet back and forth in the water. “Thanks.”

Alex hesitated before speaking again, unsure if he should burden John with the thoughts that had been ruminating in his mind for the better part of the day. But he didn’t want to keep them to himself either. “Things are going to get really complicated if I get that position on Washington’s campaign– you realize that right?”

When John didn’t respond right away, Alex nudged his leg with his foot where it was hanging down, still not wanting to look up and meet his eyes. 

“What do you mean?”

“Your dad’s one of the more prominent republican senators, and everyone knows we’re dating now. It’s gonna come up. The fact that his gay son’s boyfriend is working on a democratic campaign in New York. The fact that the candidate I’d be working for, _your former boss_ , has policy positions that so directly contradict your dad’s.”

He braced himself, unsure what sort of reaction that might elicit, but John just hummed in agreement, kicking his feet again. 

“That’s also, uh, why I couldn’t really sit there in that interview and not say anything. I didn’t want a record out there of me staying silent, showing approval by saying nothing at all, while that sort of policy was touched on. Especially while my position with Washington is already a little precarious, you know? I just didn’t want it coming back to bite me.”

“If that was your concern, you probably shouldn’t have agreed to sit for the interview at all,” John told him with a sigh.

“Yeah, well, hindsight.”

After a few minutes of silence with dusk quickly setting around them as the sun dropped lower behind the horizon, John’s shoulder brushed against him again, and when he spoke it sounded like he was smiling around his words. “I never knew you were so good with kids.”

Alex ducked his head, chuckling to himself a little. “Only smart, well behaved ones. Jemmy’s a good kid.”

“Yeah, he is,” John said, and the hint of pride in his voice made Alex smile. It was easier to see why all this family stuff meant so much to him while he was here, around them all. The way he indulged the younger kids and struck up easy, comfortable conversation with both of his brothers. The way Polly and Jemmy both looked up to him with childish adoration. The way Harry prodded him for details about New York over dinner, clearly trying to seem aloof even as his face betrayed interest in what his older brother had to say. 

The simple comfort of it all almost made Alex jealous, his heart aching for a family dynamic he never quite had growing up. 

He leaned his head against John’s shoulder as he stared up at the sky, the first stars starting to shine through the receding sunlight. “It’s no New York, but South Carolina’s not _too_ bad.”

John didn’t say anything. Just smiled and pressed a warm kiss to the side of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little fluff. As a treat. 
> 
> Leave comments please <3 
> 
> Over on tumblr @thatwouldbee-enough (new blog name!)


	57. Chapter 57

Alex realized quickly that he must have accidentally formed some sort of uneasy truce with Henry. Ever since the night before, when he had asked his youngest son about his homework for the weekend and Jemmy had mentioned how much of a help Alex had been, things seemed to be going somewhat smoothly in spite of his faux pas during the interview. Henry had offered what seemed to be genuine thanks for the assistance, and since then he had been– well not warm by any means– but polite and pleasant enough, and that’s all Alex could really think to expect after his subtle dig at Henry’s politics. 

He and John joined the rest of the family at breakfast the following morning, a large spread laid out that was clearly produced by some housekeeper or cook– perfectly presented and mouthwatering. Alex started piling his plate, very purposely avoiding the mush that he could only assume was grits, and gave a grateful hum when John placed a mug of coffee in front of him before sitting down at his right. He sipped at it, savoring the bitter warmth on his tongue as the early morning conversation swirled around him. 

“Did you hear the Miller boy is graduating law school this spring, Jack?” 

John looked up from his eggs. “Trip?” 

“No, the younger one. He was in your year, you must remember him.”

“Oh, Greg?”

Henry hummed in acknowledgement. “That’s the one. I was talking with his father the other day, and he mentioned that they’re all going out to see him graduate at the end of the year.”

“He’s finishing up this spring?” John asked with his brows drawn. “That was quick.”

“Yes, he finished his undergraduate degree early from what I heard.”

“Ah.” 

Alex didn’t miss the way Henry’s tone had carried a hint of accusation, and the way John clearly noticed, his response short and his shoulders tense. He felt a stab of sympathy for his boyfriend and tried to catch his eye, but John was more focused on his dad.

“Good for him,” Harry chimed in from across the table with a shrug. “He’ll need something to get him through in life, and goodness knows it won’t be his looks. Might as well be a law degree.”

Alex couldn’t quite stifle his snort of laughter, and he caught John smirking as well. He almost expected Henry to admonish the snide comment, but he just hummed as he took a sip of his own coffee, his face void of any reaction. “He was always a sort of homely boy,” he said in way of polite agreement.

“What does ‘homely’ mean?” Polly piped up from the farther end of the table, glancing up at the rest of them with a confused scrunch to her face.

“Plain looking,” John said at the exact same time Harry told her, “Ugly.”

Henry shot his second eldest son a stern look. 

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence. “It does!” 

“Harry,” Henry snapped at him as a way of ending anything else on that topic. Harry slouched in his chair and speared a sausage with his fork, a little bit too aggressively for it to come off casual. 

“Speaking of your school acquaintances, Jack,” Henry said to him in a much more mild tone. “Did you hear about Martha Manning?” 

“...what about her?” Alex glanced up at the slightly hesitant tone in John’s voice, confused by the uncomfortable look on his face and the blush that had risen high on his cheeks. 

“She’s engaged to be married.” 

John blinked a couple of times, and Alex couldn’t quite read his expression. “Is she? I, uh, hadn’t heard that. No.”

“Yes, I was speaking with Will the other day. He says they met at school, during her semester abroad. I figured she might have mentioned something about it to you.”

“We don’t really talk anymore.”

“That’s a shame,” Henry told him, and though there was no hint of malicious intent in his tone, Alex was still baffled by the discomfort that seemed to wash over John at his choice in conversation topic. “She was always such a lovely girl. Smart as well. It’s too bad you’ve fallen out of touch. You should really reach out and congratulate her on the happy news.”

“Sure, I will,” John muttered, focused down on his own plate again rather than meeting his dad’s gaze. 

“I’m sure he’s a nice enough young man– Will only had good things to say about him after all– but the engagement does seem a little... premature. I do have to wonder if there’s perhaps some unfortunate circumstance causing them to rush into things.”

Alex may not have known who the hell these people were, but he felt like he was catching on to Henry’s suggestion quick enough, and the judgement he was passing left a bitter taste in his mouth. It reminded him of days long, long past on the island. Whispered gossip about his own mother, unkind words that the more tactless adults in their town hadn’t been careful enough to keep to themselves in front of him and his brother. 

John looked like he was trying not to roll his eyes, and Alex got the feeling he had no idea what sort of memories the conversation was dragging up for him. Good. “If they met in college they’ll have had plenty of time to get to know one another. They must have been together for at least a couple of years at this point.”

Henry gave a dismissive shrug, obviously still believing his own imagined version of events. 

Harry looked up from where he was trying to discreetly check his phone under the table. “Father might have a point. After everything that went down your senior year–”

“Harry, shut it,” John told him sharply, kicking at his shin under the table. 

Henry gave John a warning look, and he seemed to wither under the stare, though neither of them commented on it. “Just reach out to the Mannings and offer your congratulations.” 

“I already said I would,” John insisted, the tension clear in his voice and posture as he pushed his eggs around his plate. 

Alex’s head swam with all these half-formed snippets of John’s past, questions he wanted to ask, but before he had a chance to try and really connect any of it, Jemmy had turned to him, trying to draw him into a conversation about some club he was involved in at school, so Alex filed the information away for later with his own unpleasant memories.

* * *

After breakfast, before John even had the chance to clear his plate, Jemmy was tugging at his sleeve with an imploring look. “You don’t have any plans today, right?”

John raised his brows, biting at the inside of his cheek. “Why?” He figured at some point his father would want to debrief on the interview, go over strategy on how to ‘handle’ the situation if he were ever asked about it. It had to be coming at some point before they headed back to the airport. But the conversation at the table had unsettled him, drawing unpleasant reminders of his life here back to the surface, and if Jemmy had something in mind for the day, then keeping him close might be a good way to avoid getting into a discussion about Martha while it was still fresh in Alex’s mind. 

“I thought we could go down to the beach,” he said with a shrug that looked too forced to convince John that this was just a casual suggestion. He had clearly been itching to ask. “I haven’t gotten to see you much since you’ve been home.” 

He tried not to think too much about how that word, _home_ , had more of a complicated meaning for him now. This house didn’t really feel like home. Not anymore. And even though he was here now, the place felt more like a memory, even with the physical proof of the reality all around him. Like something that had faded from its previous vibrancy. Still important in a way that invoked nostalgia, but lacking that sense of assurance, that sense that he would always come back. “That’s a bit of a drive, kid.”

Jemmy practically pouted, and John couldn’t help laughing at the reaction, reminding him more surely of the little brother he remembered. “It’s not _that_ far. Less than an hour. Come on, Jack. Please?” 

John looked over to Alex, still finishing up his coffee where he leaned back in his chair at the table. “Do you mind?” 

“No,” he said, putting the mug down on the table with a shrug. “It’s fine. I actually wanted to catch up on some stuff from work real quick, so I can do that while you’re out.” 

John felt his lips part as he blinked in uncertain surprise. “You really don’t want to come with us? You took the time off, Alex, I’m sure there’s nothing that can’t wait until Monday.” 

Alex gave him a tight smile, but he looked tired already. “Sorry, just– I don’t want to fall behind. Promise I’ll be done before you get back.”

John was slightly grateful that his father had already excused himself from the table. He didn’t want to know what sort of comments he’d have about how, as a young professional, John should be as concerned about his own career rather than wasting time with frivolous outings. “If you’re sure,” he told him gently, leaving the opportunity open. 

“I’ll see you when you get back,” Alex reassured him, downing the rest of his coffee in one last gulp and standing from the table. “I’m going to set up in your room, alright?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He grabbed Alex’s hand, stopping him before he could retreat out of the dining room. Pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “I love you.”

Alex returned his searching glance with a warm smile. “Love you too.”

* * *

It was a nice enough day considering the time of year, and John let the coastal breeze wash over him as he trailed next to Jemmy by the water, staring out over the waves. His little brother leaned down to inspect a shell, picking it up and pocketing it before continuing along. “So,” he started, his tone suddenly serious. “You said we were going to talk about it.”

John felt his expression twist into a frown as he tried to piece together what he meant, but there was too much going on, between the interview and the new information about Martha, and he couldn’t quite pick up on what Jemmy was trying to ask. “You wanna be more specific?”

Jemmy pursed his lips, as if he thought John was being purposefully obtuse. “When I texted you the other day. About how long you were going to keep the whole thing with Alex a secret…” 

“Ah.” John stared out towards the horizon, focusing on the way the sun was reflecting off the water rather than on the way Jemmy was staring at him. “Yeah. We can talk about that.” 

“Well?” His tone was sharper than usual, more demanding, and John had to consciously brace himself against it so he didn’t flinch. “When were you going to tell us?”

The way he said _us_ made it seem more like he meant to ask when John was going to tell _him_. And John honestly didn’t know the answer to that. He hadn’t made any plans to tell his family about Alex before the secret got out on its own, content to travel down the path of least resistance as long as it would take him. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he took a stab at the truth. “I really don’t know, Jem.” 

Jemmy stopped, his footprints slowly fading from the wet sand behind him as he turned to stare out at the sea as well, so John paused next to him, the two of them quiet for a moment until, “It sucked finding out that way.” Without the pressure of his little brother staring him down, John turned just slightly to take in his profile, watching as his forehead creased in thought. “Someone at school mentioned that tweet to me before I even found out. I didn’t know what to say. I had to duck into the bathroom and look it up myself between periods. You know that if you just told me about Alex I wouldn’t…” He trailed off for a moment, struggling to find the right words amidst his frustration. Ran a hand back through the hair at the top of his head that was just growing long enough to start to curl. “You could have told me, Jack. It’s not like I would have _judged_ you or anything. I mean– I _wish_ you would have told me.”

John tried to fill in the bits Jemmy wasn’t saying. Wondering what he had done to make himself unworthy of his brother’s trust. And John didn’t have a good answer for that. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” He meant it wholeheartedly. He hated the thought of some dumb kid coming up to his brother in the hallway and pestering him about the latest drama involving his family, blindsiding him with news he should have already known about. He hesitated a moment before asking, “Did father ever mention…?”

Jemmy turned to him, brows raised in question, face raw and vulnerable, and John couldn’t avoid meeting his eyes now. “Mention what, Jack?”

“After I told him… when I told him I liked guys? Did he…?” When Jemmy didn’t answer the half formed question right away, he continued, blurting out more information, his words rushing over one another in the hope that it would cover up his discomfort, or maybe make up for not confiding in his brother earlier. “During college. I was home on break one year, and I had known for a while really. I knew back in high school I guess, but once I was finally away from home, I started, you know, seeing people and stuff. I wanted to be sure, and once I was, I needed father to know. I don’t like keeping things from him,” he said, still feeling guilty about it even after all these years. “Or from the rest of you for that matter. I really am sorry, Jemmy.” His voice cracked with all of the emotion rising high like the tide in his chest. “It was just– I wasn’t sure how to handle it. And I didn’t want that burden on anyone else. It’s not something you should have to deal with.”

He reached out tentatively, and when Jemmy didn’t flinch away, he wrapped an arm around his shoulder. His little brother leaned in closer, resting his head against his shoulder. “It’s not a _burden_ , Jack. Family is supposed to help each other. I wish I had known. I– I wish I could have made it easier,” he admitted quietly, for some ridiculous reason sounding _guilty_. 

John shook his head slowly, trying to clear it, to figure out what to say. “That’s not your job. I would never expect you to fix things for me, kid. It’s supposed to be the other way around.” Still, he felt a rush of affection as he squeezed him in tighter. “I’m _your_ big brother. That doesn’t change just because you seem to be growing a few inches every time I see you,” he teased with a quiet laugh, letting his heart feel lighter for the moment. “I know I should have told you– all of you. Once I had given a little time for father to get used to the idea I should have…” He paused for a moment, redirecting. “Well, I figured– I don’t know. I thought he might have mentioned it to everyone.” He wondered why his father _hadn’t_ told the rest of them. Was he ashamed? Was he also worried about placing that burden on the younger kids? Was he just trying to protect John’s privacy? It was impossible to know at this point, and John tried to push away the lingering fear that it might have been that first reason.

Jemmy remained quiet as John talked in circles, tucked up against his side and staring at the waves as they crashed in near their feet.

“I missed you,” John told him after a little while, tilting his chin down to get a better look at him. Cataloging all of the little changes that had taken place as he’d started to grow up during his absence. 

Jemmy smiled softly, breathing out a quiet sigh through his nose. “I missed you too. You can visit more often, you know.”

“It hasn’t been _that_ long,” John told him defensively. He stepped back as he noticed the tide starting to creep in closer towards them. 

“Yeah, and DC isn’t _that far_ ,” Jemmy argued, but amusement colored his tone enough that John realized there was no bite to it. 

He rolled his eyes and shoved his shoulder. “Fine, I’ll try and make it down every once in a while.” He turned his back on the water, glancing out towards the rest of the beach, only a few people scattered along the sand with autumn settling in quickly. “Wanna grab some lunch before we head back? My treat.”

“Can we go to Crab Shack?” Jemmy asked, perking up immediately.

John laughed, reaching over to ruffle his hair. Smirked in fond amusement as he quickly ran a hand up to fix it, clearly more self conscious of his looks than John remembered. He really was growing up. “Sounds good to me. I’ve been craving some lowcountry seafood.” He let Jemmy take the lead, following behind and feeling like some of the weight had finally lifted off his shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Jemmy
> 
> Leave comments down below and come hang on tumblr @thatwouldbee-enough
> 
> Happy New Year friends! Good riddance 2020!


	58. Chapter 58

Alex made his way quietly down the hall, peering in Harry's open bedroom door, but he wasn’t in his room. He sighed, only slightly disappointed, and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. _Fuck._ He shouldn’t have been doing this anyway, really. It was probably for the best that Harry _wasn’t_ there. He could just wait until John got back and ask him about it. 

Except–

It didn’t seem like John was too eager to talk about Martha Manning over breakfast and who’s to say he would tell Alex at all? After all, he had plenty of chances to bring up exes before, and yet she had never come up. And it was fucking _unfair_. It’s not like he had held anything back from John regarding his own history. At least nothing like _that_. Nothing about dating or sex or whatever the hell had gone on between the two of them. And he had come all the way down to fucking South Carolina, gone through this bullshit interview, and for what? For John to get all cagey over some fucking girl?

He turned back down the hall with a frustrated huff and made his way down the stairs instead, already finished with his pathetic excuse of checking through his emails for anything important. Nobody actually needed anything from him– not after _Burr_ had taken over his projects for the end of the week and frustratingly done a fine job wrapping up all of them– and after a few quick responses he had stowed his laptop away in his bag again. He wished he _did_ have work to get done, because it would keep him more thoroughly distracted, keep his mind from wandering down these paths that it definitely should _not_ be wandering down. 

At the foot of the stairs, he turned into the sitting room at the front of the house, remembering how he had wanted a closer look at the pictures there. As he lingered near the far wall, one in particular caught his eye. 

He stepped closer to get a proper look at it. 

It was a teenage John, all dressed up in a formal suit, his arms wrapped lightly around the waist of a pretty brunette in a floor length ball gown, her hair done up in perfect ringlets that framed the side of her face as she flashed a charming smile at the camera. The pose itself was stiff, awkward, but the two of them seemed to be comfortable enough in spite of it. If John harbored any ill feelings about taking a _girl_ to prom, he was doing a good job of hiding it. 

He felt a stab of jealousy, and the reaction itself baffled him. He shouldn’t be jealous of a girl John had absolutely no interest in being with. She was long gone, only present in memories, while Alex was _here_. John had stuck with him, brought him home to South Carolina in spite of everything that had happened. So why did he still feel so _shitty_ looking at that picture?

It struck him suddenly. She _fit_. She fit in with this family, with this whole fucking world of propriety and wealth, in a way that Alex never could. No matter how hard he worked, no matter what he did to improve his own circumstances, he would never meld in seamlessly with this lifestyle. He didn’t have the family connections. Didn’t have the right upbringing. He would never have the shared experiences that made this all _easy_. He wanted to knock that damn picture right off the wall, but he contented himself with just turning away, refusing to look at John’s easy smile as he held onto her and smiled for the camera. 

He startled when he caught someone watching what he assumed was a private display of bitterness. 

“Sorry,” Harry apologized quickly, straightening up from where he had been leaning against the doorframe. “I was just passing through to grab some water from the kitchen,” he said motioning in its general direction. 

“No, no, it’s fine.” Alex took a step further away from the pictures on the wall. “I was just looking,” he said, gesturing vaguely behind him. 

“Well, there’s certainly plenty to look at,” Harry told him, a ghost of a laugh slipping out. “They took so many pictures when we were growing up. Especially of Jack,” he added with an eye roll. “Oldest child and all.”

Alex responded with a short laugh of his own and turned back towards the wall, his eye catching on some smaller frames propped up on a shelf. “Is that him?” he asked, pointing towards a candid shot of a small kid running towards the water at the beach, skin already tanned and freckled from the summer sun, curls wet from the ocean and pressed down against his forehead. 

Harry stepped closer to glance at the picture as well and nodded. “Yeah. Mom used to bring us down to the beach all the time. She loved the ocean. Used to collect seashells with all of us and keep them in these decorative jars…” He trailed off, rubbing at the back of his neck like he was embarrassed to get carried away with his memories. 

Alex was normally better at repressing his _own_ memories, but being here, the evidence of a family all around him, he felt more vulnerable, like his defenses were down, and the story was enough to remind him of his own mother and the way she’d sit out with him as he played in the ocean, watching him splash in the waves and run around trying to make friends with all the other kids, smiling fondly and kissing him on the forehead when he’d bring back a particularly nice shell or bit of sea glass from the shallow water where he could easily see down to the sand underneath. 

He wondered what she’d say about all _this_. Alex and John. The way Henry had encouraged him to hide things. The damn tweet. Though it was probably a good thing she wasn’t around to read some of the more _explicit_ language he used in ripping that guy to shreds. 

He honestly _wasn’t_ sure how she would have reacted to any of it. She hadn’t been around long enough for him to find out. That frustrated him more than anything. 

He was aware the two of them had been quiet for a bit too long, so he shifted his focus to a picture of the whole Laurens family instead, Polly still just a baby in their mother’s arms, and gave a soft smile. “She seems lovely. I wish I could have met her.”

“You would have liked her more than you like our father.”

Alex laughed at that, but when he turned to face Harry he looked more serious than he had anticipated. 

“I think– if she were still here– she might have… I don’t know. I think things might have gone differently, that’s all.”

Alex chewed at the inside of his cheek, hesitating, but then asked, “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m guessing he told Jack to hide it.” Alex’s brows shot up in surprise at how spot on he was. And how blunt. “Maybe I’m way off base here,” Harry added, misinterpreting Alex’s reaction. “But just, I know how father likes to control everything, and he has all these expectations. But I think if mom was still around, she would’ve said something to him. Made him realize it probably wasn’t the best move, you know?”

“Things definitely would have been easier that way,” Alex admitted, wondering if she really had that much sway over her husband. Wondering how different John’s life would have turned out if she had still been around. 

They settled into silence for a moment as Alex glanced at a few more pictures and then, “I was actually looking for you earlier. I wanted to ask… at breakfast– what was all of that about?”

“Ah.” Harry hesitated, throwing a quick, instinctive glance towards the picture of John at prom. With just Alex as his audience, his earlier teasing nature about the whole thing seemed to fade into something more unsure. “You mean about Martha?” When Alex just nodded intently, he sighed and continued. “It’s not a big deal or anything. She and Jack dated in high school for a little while.”

Alex raised one eyebrow. “Is that her?” he asked, motioning towards the picture. 

“Yeah. From Jack’s senior prom.”

Alex took another step towards the picture, holding himself back from the urge to reach out and touch it. “John never mentioned her,” he said, immediately cringing as he realized he was probably giving away a little bit too much of his own insecurity here. 

But Harry seemed to sense his mood and– fortunately– didn’t turn it against him. “I don’t think he likes to think about it, to be honest.” 

_Still._ Alex huffed a sigh and tried not to take this little bit of John’s secrecy too personally. After a moment though, the particular part of their conversation over breakfast that had been nagging at him resurfaced in his thoughts. “Your dad had said something about the engagement seeming rushed. And– what did you mean about John’s senior year? When he got all pissy and kicked you.”

Harry huffed, shifting his weight uncomfortably between his feet. “Look, I really don’t think you want to be hearing about all of this from _me_. Just ask him about it when he gets back.” 

Alex chewed at the inside of his cheek as he kept his eyes fixed on the picture, debating his next move. He _could_ wait and ask John when he got back, but that wasn’t a guarantee of an honest answer. After all, John had never even brought up this high school relationship before. And Harry _clearly_ knew whatever bit of gossip was being implied at the table, but he seemed unwilling to easily betray John’s privacy. It would be more touching if Alex wasn’t so frustrated with being kept in the dark. 

One option stuck out to him, and it wasn’t the _kindest_ option, but he figured it was the most likely to work. He pulled at the thread he had picked up on, the dynamic between Harry and the rest of his family– the way Henry was so quick to reprimand him over the smallest perceived misbehavior. 

Alex could work with that. He shrugged as if the answer wasn’t taking up quite as much of his thoughts as it truly was. “I mean, it can’t be _that bad_ , right?” He breathed a quiet laugh. “It is John, after all. What, did they sneak out unchaperoned?” he joked, putting as much sarcasm into his tone as he could to imply exactly how ridiculous he thought the notion of John doing _anything_ less than upstanding was. 

Harry pursed his lips, and Alex could see his resolve crumbling. 

“Whatever it is, I can guarantee I’ve done worse,” Alex went on, playing it up with an amused roll of his eyes. “John’s so scared of disappointing people. Just tell me– what’d he do? Did your dad find out they had sex or something? Because, that’s not really a big deal–”

“He got her pregnant,” Harry blurted out, voice a little rough with the built up frustration from Alex’s prodding. 

Alex felt his eyes go wide, his lips parting in surprise. “Oh shit.” Sure, he had a brief suspicion that was what Henry was implying about the _current_ engagement, but even then Alex hadn’t imagined the reason Henry was so ready to believe it was because _John_ had… well shit. The next thought hit him like a train, and he felt his heart start to beat double time. “He doesn’t have– _they_ don’t have…?” He couldn’t quite get the last part out, but Harry seemed to understand and shook his head quickly.

“No. She, ah– abortion. She got an abortion.” The word came out uncomfortable on Harry’s tongue. Alex wasn’t surprised, after years of all of them growing up in the fucking bible belt, his father publicly speaking against the practice, supporting bills that would aim to criminalize it. “I don’t think any of us were supposed to find out, but Jack withdrew the money from his bank account, and father had access to that at the time, so he started asking questions about why he had taken money out of his savings, and well… it all got out eventually.” 

Alex ran a hand back through his hair, trying to process. He wondered, if things had gone differently, if John ever would have come out or if he would have tried to do the quote-unquote “right thing” and married this girl instead, lived his whole life denying what he really wanted. Obviously he couldn’t discuss any of _that_ with his little brother though. “Isn’t abortion kind of… frowned upon down here?"

Harry rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s easier to hide than a full term teen pregnancy, isn’t it?”

When Alex didn’t say anything, just raised his brows at his frankness, Harry pressed on.

“It’s all about appearances. You obviously know that. Especially after coming down for _this_ round of appeasing the press. I mean, father was still furious at the time of course, but he was more angry about the premarital sex– and the fact that Jack had fucked up bad enough to get _caught–_ than about how they decided to handle it.”

He couldn’t even begin to imagine how _that_ conversation had gone. “Shit, I bet the reporters would have a field day with that particular bit of gossip.” 

“Yeah. Exactly.” Harry rubbed at his upper arm, shifting again. “Father was pretty adamant that no one ever found out. I wasn’t even supposed to know really, but Martha– um our sister Martha not _that_ Martha– found out, and she told me. She needed _someone_ to discuss the whole thing with, you know?” He paused, glancing at the picture again and chewing at his lip. “They broke up after that."

“They broke up because he got her pregnant?”

Harry shrugged defensively. “I don’t know _why_. It’s not like he told me or anything. I was still a kid at the time” 

“Huh.” 

“No one really talked about it. She just stopped coming around.” He shrugged again, throwing Alex a quick glance, trying to read his reaction, before looking away. “Look, I’m really not surprised Jack didn’t say anything. I think he was pretty embarrassed by the whole thing, and father reacting the way he did didn’t help. It was pretty soon after mom died,” he said, his voice getting hard at the end. “So, I don’t think he was in the best place, you know?”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, because he _did_. He could remember some of the more stupid decisions he had made after his own mother died. “Grief makes people do fucked up things sometimes.” And he couldn’t imagine going through that sort of grief while also being a closeted teenager, already volatile enough with mood swings and self-destructive angst. 

Still, even with the reassurance that it was likely a dumb, poorly thought out decision, Alex couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his gut when he looked at the picture of the two of them again. He would never fit that naturally into John’s world, would never have the carefree simplicity that a relationship with a girl like that could have brought him. God, it fucking _hurt_ to know, even with a fucking teen pregnancy scandal, John’s life probably would have been easier with Martha. 

He bit down hard on the inside of his lip as he tried to arrange all of his thoughts on the matter and politely declined Harry’s offer to grab him something to drink as he headed towards the kitchen. “I’m all set. Thanks though.” He paused, then added with a vague hand gesture towards the pictures, “And thanks for, well, all this. I’ve gotta get back to some stuff for work before John gets home,” he lied, needing the excuse to retreat to John’s room, to be undisturbed with his own thoughts for a while. 

When he closed the door behind him, he flopped down onto John’s bed with a heavy sigh and pressed his palms into his closed eyes. Just laid there trying to organize all of this new information until he heard the front door open, John and Jemmy’s voices carrying up to the second floor from the open entryway. By the time he heard John coming up the stairs, he knew he couldn’t ask about Martha. Not yet at least, not here, where he was already surrounded by the ghosts of his past. It could wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming in with drama for the first update of 2021 
> 
> Leave comments down below! ❤️
> 
> And come hang on tumblr @thatwouldbee-enough


	59. Chapter 59

After dinner, John had intended to show Alex around the gardens– the ones his mom had painstakingly curated, creating something beautiful and lasting, where she had indulged his childhood curiosity over every flower and tree with fond patience– but as they were finishing up their meal, his father stopped him as he attempted to excuse himself.

“Jack, a word in my study if you have a moment?” 

Despite the polite wording, John knew better than to consider it a request. He glanced towards Alex, hovering by his side uncertainly, and gave him a tight smile. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, of course not. I’ll be upstairs. Wanted to make sure I have everything packed for tomorrow anyway.” He gave his hand a quick squeeze and headed out of the room, leaving John to follow his father across the hall and into his study. 

The room itself was as dark and imposing as John remembered, all mahogany and leather, lined with towering shelves and cabinets. It always set John on edge. All his memories of the space growing up were either of his dad reprimanding him for some supposed misstep, or those awkward, too-important conversations between father and son that still made him anxious to think about. Too stiff and formal. He told his father about Martha in this room. Came out to him while home from college in this room. Had learned that his mother wasn’t going to get better in this room. The walls felt like a prison, oppressive and claustrophobic in a way that had never gotten better, even as he’d grown up and moved away. 

And it didn’t help that his father was staring at him, that dark, scrutinizing gaze that made him stand straighter, made the muscles in his jaw and shoulders tense. John watched as he walked over to one of the cabinets and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, two crystal glasses. He placed them down on his desk, glancing up at John. “Would you like a drink?”

John could feel his brows draw down, but quickly tried to wipe any confusion from his expression. Even for the most serious of conversations, his father had never treated him like this. Like an equal. “Sure,” he said, swallowing down his concern that there had to be some motive here. “Thank you.”

As his father poured the whiskey, the amber liquid splashing against the sides of the crystal glasses and reflecting against the dim light in the study, John couldn’t help but think of what Alex would say about the label. Clearly too old and pretentious, ridiculously expensive. He bit down on his lip to stop a smirk as he imagined his reaction and accepted the glass that was handed to him, sinking down into a chair, as his father did the same on the other side of the desk before taking a long sip, closing his eyes and humming in pleasure at the taste. “I wanted to ensure we had a chance to speak before your flight tomorrow,” he said as he placed the glass back down in front of him. 

“Alright,” John said, considering him over the rim of his glass before taking a sip of his own. The whiskey burned going down, but it was good, and it left a nice warmth in its wake that melted some of his nerves. “Did you want to talk about anything in particular or…?”

The question hung in the air for a moment as his dad took another sip, and then seemed to pause in a rare moment of hesitation. “A couple of different things actually.” He hesitated again, and John took another sip of his whiskey, more for something to do with his hands than for any other reason. To avoid his father’s considering stare. “The first being your career plans.”

John blinked, feeling his brows draw down again. Out of all the directions the conversation could have gone, he wasn’t expecting _this_. Especially not with everything that had gone on over the weekend. He had assumed it would be something about Alex. About discretion or his father’s campaign. 

“You mentioned, while I was up in New York, that you’re not planning on law school anymore.” His father raised a brow and waited, maintaining eye contact that John longed to shy away from. 

“I– ah, yeah,” he stammered, embarrassed by how easily his father’s scrutiny could break him down, especially with the memory of just how rashly he had reacted during that conversation fresh in his mind. “I just, um– I don’t really think that it’s right for me. I know that was always the plan, but I don’t want to go through all those extra years of school just to be miserable with what I’m doing.”

His father took another sip of whiskey and considered his words with a soft hum. “So then, what _is_ your plan, Jack?”

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “My plan?"

“Your career plan,” his father sighed. “I can understand why you’ve decided against law school. It’s not the easiest path, and it’s certainly not for everyone.” John wasn’t sure if the subtle dig was intentional or not, but he didn’t have a chance to comment on it regardless as his father continued. “But you’re getting older. I’ll stand by your decision if you’re sure of it, but I won’t stand by idleness. You have to have some direction– goals you’re working towards. What is your plan for once your internship ends?”

Swallowing hard, John turned his gaze to the side a bit, staring off behind his father’s shoulder somewhere instead. The truth was, he _hadn’t_ really thought about it. As much as he had been trying to get out of this feeling of obligation that his father had instilled in him when it came to law school, he had always assumed he’d chicken out, give in to his wishes and just end up going. Doing what he was supposed to do. Coming up with any other sort of plan just seemed like a way to torture himself. He gave a small shrug, still not making eye contact. “I’m not entirely sure. I still have more than half the internship left– I have time to figure it out.”

His father heaved a familiar, disappointed sigh, and John took a longer sip of the whiskey to brace himself against it. “Figure it out sooner rather than later. A job isn’t going to just appear once you’ve decided the direction you want to go in, Jack. You need time to look into different opportunities, apply, interview. There’s an expected amount of turn around time to all of this.”

John felt his face heat up as his father lectured him as if he was a child again. _Of course_ he knew how applying to jobs worked. He had to apply to internships after all, and he managed _that_ just fine on his own. Well mostly on his own. The previous experience helping his father over summer break likely bolstered his resume, but it’s not as if he didn’t work his ass off during those summers as well. He snapped his eyes back to his father’s face, unable to completely mask his irritation. “I _know_ , alright? I have enough time to figure it out.”

“I suppose if you don’t find anything else you can always come to DC and work in my office there for a little while. Build up more experience.”

“I’m not doing that.” The words came out reflexively before John could even consider what he was saying, but he _wasn’t_. He had a life in New York now. He had _Alex_. And the last thing he wanted was to work on his father’s staff, just another privileged kid riding on his parent’s coattails. 

“And how do you plan on supporting yourself in New York without a job?”

John just stared. What the _fuck_ was he trying to imply? 

“You’re a young man now, Jack. I’m not going to fund a lifestyle of leisure for you while you neglect your responsibilities.”

John’s hand tightened instinctively around his glass. “I’m not _neglecting_ anything!”

His father ignored him, pressing on. “I’ve been extremely lenient with your finances. I paid for your education and helped set you up in an apartment, agreed to fund any necessities. That’s all well and good when you’re fresh out of college, just starting up. But if I continue to hand you everything like this, you’ll never learn to fend for yourself.”

“So– what?” John asked, eyebrows raising high. “You’re cutting me off because I don’t want to go to law school?” 

“Don’t be so dramatic. I am offering you a choice. Once your internship is over, you can pave your own way for yourself in New York– with a job and a _plan–_ or you can come to DC until you figure everything out. I’m not kicking you out on the streets, but I won’t have you reliant on my money your whole life either.”

“Is this because of Alex? Because we fucked up and it turned into this big thing?” John asked in a flush of anger. “Are you punishing me or something because we affected your prospects at reelection?”

“For goodness sake, Jack,” he groaned, clearly starting to lose patience. “This has nothing to do with any of that. This is about you and your life. The choices you’re making. I would be an irresponsible parent if I didn’t encourage you to be independent.”

“I’m _not_ moving to DC,” John told him resolutely, setting his jaw firm. He wouldn’t go back to living under his father’s roof, with all of the scrutiny and expectations looming over him day in and day out. The pressure to follow in his footsteps and do nothing actually _good_ with his life. “I’m sure Alex will let me stay with him if I need to.”

His father raised an eyebrow at him, something almost like pity in his expression. “The two of you have been seeing each other for what– two months? I know you have a tendency to get attached quickly, but you shouldn’t rely on him being there to offer you a place to stay by the summer. It’s a bit early for that sort of thinking.”

John’s grip tightened around his glass of whiskey, and he wasn’t sure whether he wanted another sip or to smash the damn thing. “ _Of course_ you don’t think it’ll last. Because _clearly_ the fact that he came all the way down here and put up with your bullshit for the weekend doesn’t prove that he’s serious about the two of us, right?”

His father narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t say that,” he told him cautiously, though with another deep sigh. “I just want you to be careful. You can be very… sensitive. Romantic. You get that from your mother,” he said with the ghost of a fond smile that quickly faltered. “I want you to be happy, Jack. _Truly._ I just don’t want you to be reckless with your heart. I worry about you, that’s all.”

John pursed his lips, unsure how to react to this slightly softer approach, his own frustration still simmering too close to the surface. He let the silence linger before finally huffing a sigh and deflating a little. “I know what I’m doing, alright? I’ll have something figured out by the time my internship is up. I might have to get a studio in Queens or the Bronx or something, but I’ll figure it out.”

His father scoffed, taking another sip of his whiskey. “The Bronx? Are you looking to make yourself a target?”

“I can look after myself just fine,” John snapped, feeling his cheeks heat again at the patronizing tone. 

His father hummed a noncommittal noise and raised a brow. “Alexander doesn’t live in the Bronx, does he?” 

“Would it matter if he did?” John bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to rein himself back in. “No. He lives in Manhattan. Inwood.”

His father nodded, sounding a little more at ease. “I’ve heard good things about Inwood lately. That area seems to be safer than it used to be.”

John rolled his eyes and took a long sip of his drink, inviting the burn in his throat. “You mean it’s more gentrified than it used to be?”

“More money generally brings more safety with it, yes,” his father noted dryly. “Regardless, I am glad to know you’re in a safer area if you’ve been spending time at his apartment. Criminals can sniff out people with money, Jack. You need to be careful, that’s all.”

John brought an elbow to his armrest, leaning his chin in one hand, entirely ready to end this conversation. It wasn’t like he was some naive kid. He could handle himself just fine without the security of living in a big, expensive complex in a nice part of the city. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He surveyed his father across the desk. “Is there anything else? I wanted to show Alex around a little bit tonight.”

“Ah, yes. I won’t keep you long, but there is one more thing. The interview will be published Monday morning. Based on how everything transpired the other day, perhaps it would be best to talk to Alexander about what to do if he’s approached by any reporters. He doesn’t seem to be a natural at holding his tongue, but it’s for the best that he learn,” his father told him, leveling a stern look across the desk. “Unless you desire even _more_ attention from the press, that is.” He took a final sip of his whiskey, tipping the glass back to get the last drops and then setting it down with a heavy click on the wood as he watched for John’s reaction with raised brows.

Taking his cue that they were wrapping things up, John sighed and finished his own drink. As much as he hated to admit it, his father _did_ have a point. He didn’t want this story to get dragged out any longer than it already had been. “I’ll talk to him.”

His father gave a pleased nod and stood, clapping his hands together as John followed his lead. The whole conversation left a bitter taste in his mouth that even the whiskey couldn’t wash down. “Right then. I’ll let you get back to your evening.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I am alive!
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> Come hang on tumblr @thatwouldbee-enough and on insta @thatwouldbeeenough


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Alex looked out over the river, watching as the sun fell low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the property. Hummed a soft, contented noise when John wrapped his arms loosely around his waist, resting his chin against his shoulder. He had been strangely quiet all evening, ever since he had finished up the post-dinner discussion with Henry. Showing Alex around with a sort of distracted look in his eyes. “Do you miss all of this?” Alex asked suddenly, his voice breaking the peaceful silence around them. “When you’re gone?”

After all, John wasn’t like him. Detached. He had things to come back to here. Fond memories. And regardless of how nice John’s stupidly expensive apartment in the city was, there was certainly more splendor and luxury in a huge estate like this. Alex wondered if one day he might want to come back to South Carolina for good. Make a life here. The thought set his nerves on edge, and it seemed ridiculous that they had never talked about it before– where they wanted to end up someday. 

He could feel John shrug behind him. He was quiet for a long moment, the two of them just staring out at the sunset, and then Alex felt warm breath ghosting against his neck as he sighed. “I guess… some parts? If that makes sense? I miss the open space, the nature and outdoors and all that. The fact that the river is clean enough to swim in,” he said with a touch of amusement, and then added, a little softer, “My mom’s gardens and all the little reminders of her. And I miss my family of course but–” He hesitated, sounding almost guilty. “With my father especially, I think we get along better when we only see each other every once in a while. When I lived here, everything just felt so _stifling_. Like every move I made was under scrutiny, and it was never the _right_ move, you know?” He leaned his chin more heavily on Alex’s shoulder and squeezed tighter. “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t complain about all of _this_. That other people kill for the opportunities I had growing up here.”

“It’s fine.” Alex leaned his head back against his chest and let his eyes drift shut. Took a deep breath of the fresh outdoor air. “I think I get it a little more, after being down here with you for the weekend. Seems like a lot to try and navigate, especially as a kid." He thought back to the conversation with Harry, about John's high school years. Dealing with his mother's death. Dealing with the whole situation with Martha Manning. "Must have been a lot of pressure.”

“Yeah.” 

Alex stroked his thumb along John’s hand, feeling the rise and fall of his chest where it pressed up against his back. Some frustrating, nagging part of his brain wanted to press more about the future– whether John liked New York better, where he thought he’d end up– but no. That would be a ridiculous conversation to have at this point. Surely you shouldn’t ask someone about their plans for the future this _early_ in a relationship. But maybe he could nudge the conversation in that direction without outright _asking_. 

“It’s nice here, but I don’t know…” He chewed at his lower lip as he leaned his head against John’s. “I’m not sure I could live down here. Everything just seems so much slower. None of that New York urgency, you know? I need something fast-paced.”

John laughed. “You need a city that can keep up with you?” 

“Exactly.”

He grinned, turning to the side to press a kiss to Alex’s temple. “Not sure even New York can handle _that_ challenge.” He squeezed tighter for just a moment, then let go, taking a few steps closer to the river as Alex trailed behind him. “But don’t you want like– a house or something someday? Not exactly something you find in the city.”

Truth be told, it had never mattered much to Alex whether he ended up in a house or an apartment, as long as he ended up somewhere _nice_. Somewhere that proved he had made it. That he was no longer that little kid sharing a bedroom with his older brother in a tiny, worn down house on the island. He shrugged, unsure how to get that across, or if he even wanted to. “There’s always the suburbs. Not all of us need a gigantic estate after all,” he teased instead, trying to mask his own insecurity. 

“ _I_ _don’t_.” John’s tone carried more vehemence than Alex was expecting, and when he turned to face him, he wore a surprisingly serious look. “I _don’t_ need all of this. I don’t even _want_ all of this.”

Alex shook his head in confusion, thrown off by the sudden shift. “John, it’s fine–”

“It’s _not_ though, is it?” he interrupted, frustration rising rapidly, like he had been holding it all in and now the lid was lifted, allowing it to escape all at once. “Do you know how _guilty_ I felt? Going to church every Sunday where they’d go on and on about the importance of being generous, love thy neighbor and all that bullshit, and then knowing that we had all _this_? While other people were starving and homeless and struggling? It’s not _fine_.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared out at the river. “And I don’t need _you_ of all people acting like it’s something I _need_. Like I’m bound to all of this just because I was born into it. I don’t need all of this shit,” he added bitterly, glancing back up the hill towards the house. “I can get by just fine without it.”

Alex’s brow furrowed, and he took a step closer, placing what he hoped was a reassuring hand on John’s arm. “Hey– I was just joking, okay? It’s not like I blame you for having money or anything.” And he didn’t. If anything he was jealous. He couldn’t imagine how much further along he would have been by now if _he_ had grown up with all of this. 

“That’s not the point!” John told him, glaring back down at the water. “It’s not about whether anyone _blames_ me. It’s about the fact that I have it– and all of the privileges that growing up with money affords– and I’m not doing anything fucking useful with it. I’m just sitting on my ass letting everything happen around me, not making any fucking difference.” His jaw clenched tight, and Alex could practically feel the heat vibrating off of his body, all of the energy he was generating from working himself up. “Like, think about all of the money that goes into paying my rent every month. Do you ever wonder about all of the things that money could be going towards instead?”

“Okay,” Alex started cautiously, unsure of the best course of action here. He _had_ in fact thought of that before– was pretty sure the money John spent on rent in a year would be enough to cover his own hypothetical law school tuition– but that didn’t seem like the best thing to point out at the moment. “But that’s your dad’s money, right? If it wasn’t going towards your rent, it’d just be sitting in a bank somewhere. You can’t control what he does with it, John. And anyone who gives you shit for taking advantage of the help he gives you can fuck off. Anyone in your position would do the same.”

John growled in frustration, throwing his arms out to the side and knocking Alex’s hand away from him. “You’re not _getting it_! That money _shouldn’t be_ sitting in a bank somewhere! He should do something _useful_ with it– help people, I don’t know– _something_.” He brought both of his hands up, rubbing at his face and pressing his palms into his closed eyes as the words hung, suspended in the air between them.

Alex bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, trying his best to read the chaotic pace of the situation, to figure out why John was so intent on all of this _now_. When the answer hit him, it seemed obvious. “Did something happen earlier? With your dad? After dinner?”

When John didn’t answer right away, just glared more fiercely out towards the tree-line at the setting sun, Alex was pretty sure he hit the mark. 

That didn’t make it any less awkward to prompt the conversation forward, his voice sounding far too hesitant to his own ears when he spoke. “What did the two of you talk about?”

“The fact that I’m not going to law school,” John muttered, and Alex had to imagine by the tone of his voice that the conversation didn’t go particularly well. But still, how did that prompt all of _this_?

“Okay, and– what? He wasn’t happy about that? Tried to convince you to go?” Alex scrunched his face in thought, trying to piece everything together.

“No.” John let out a deep sigh and clenched his jaw again, grinding it back and forth. “I _know_ he’s upset I’m not going, but he didn’t outright say that or anything. He basically just told me that I _obviously_ don’t have any sort of plan.” John’s shoulders went tight as he spoke, his whole body seeming tense enough to break for a moment before he continued. “Which– _of course_ I don’t have a fucking plan. He pushed me towards law school for so long, I never had a fucking chance to come up with an alternative.” He exhaled a short, frustrated huff. “So now he’s saying if I don’t figure everything out by the time my internship is over that I should just move to DC and work for him for a while. That he’s not going to keep paying rent for me to live in New York if I’m not doing anything with my life,” he finished with a sort of petulant, bitterness in his tone, crossing his arms over his chest with a frown. 

“Oh.” Alex bit his lip and dropped his gaze. “Well, that’s not _entirely_ unreasonable, is it?” he asked, intentionally careful with his wording even though it clearly _wasn’t_ unreasonable. If Alex was able to make enough to pay his own rent _and_ save away some money, there was no reason John wouldn’t have enough saved by the end of the internship to cover his necessities for a little while if need be. It’s not like he had to pay for any of his own shit at the moment. And being worried about finding a job wasn’t anything unusual. That was the type of shit you were _supposed_ to be worried about when you were young, fresh out of college. It wasn’t like this was any unusual, unfair hardship. He braced himself against the potential for backlash and continued anyway. “You still have plenty of time to look for something. And like you said, you don’t need all of that bullshit your dad pays for, right? Just find a decent paying job and a more modest apartment and you’ll be fine.”

John’s mouth twisted down in a grimace, the setting sun casting shadows on his face now. “Yeah, but I have no idea what _kind_ of job I want. I didn’t seriously consider it until now. The path had already been laid out for me with law school, and then something in politics, and I was just following it for so long. And the whole point of _not_ going to law school is that I don’t want to waste my time with something I don’t want to pursue. So obviously I don’t want to rush into this job search and end up just stuck with something _else_ that isn’t making me happy. And then,” he paused, insecurity finally creeping in past the bravado and righteousness. “What if I _can’t_ handle things on my own? I know I should be able to, but I’ve never even tried before. What if I insist I can do it all on my own– support myself and make my own way– and I just _fail_? Fuck– I can’t, Alex. I can’t go crawling back and ask for help after all of this.”

Alex glanced up at him, watching the struggle play out across his face as he fought over the differing arguments in his own mind, and then sat down at the edge of the river, patting the grass until John got the hint and dropped down beside him. “Not to be a dick,” he told him slowly, staring down at the water as it reflected the oranges and yellows from the sky above them. “But you really need to get over yourself, John.” He watched John raise his eyebrows, slightly affronted, but he didn’t say anything, so Alex kept going. “Other people deal with way worse than _this_ when they’re first starting out. People end up working shitty service jobs just to scrape together the money for school with the _hope_ that they’ll get to a better point in life. They survive off of ramen in those shitty styrofoam cups and fast food, and they study when they should be sleeping because there aren’t enough hours in the day for people who didn’t grow up like you.” Alex became suddenly aware that he was projecting a little bit too much into the conversation and shook his head to himself to clear his thoughts. “Look I’m just trying to say, you have time to figure it all out, and even if you _don’t_ , at least you have a safety net. Your dad’s not gonna let you starve or anything. And you don’t have student loans or any of that bullshit, so when you’re paying for your own shit at least you don’t have _that_ to worry about. Feeling guilty about what you _do_ have isn’t helping anyone. So _don’t_. Don’t waste your time feeling sorry about the state of the world, get busy figuring your shit out and do something about it. You have a good degree, work experience, plenty of people to give you recommendations and set up connections. And worst comes to worst Lafayette has a second bedroom. Or I mean, you could always stay with me.” John grimaced at that, and Alex’s mind scrambled to figure out _why_. He hadn’t anticipated John would have any issue with the idea of the two of them living together– they practically lived together already– but maybe he wasn’t ready for that? Or maybe he didn’t think they’d still be together by that point? Alex kicked himself for bringing it up at all because, yeah, it was probably still too early to be talking about any of that. Fuck. He tried to read John's expression, but he was staring hard down at the river again, a far off expression in his eyes. 

Alex dug his fingers into his thighs, the denim rough against his nails, and tried to backtrack. “I just mean that you have plenty of people who’d be willing to help you out. It’s not like your only options are doing it completely on your own or asking your dad to bail you out if things get rough. And I can help with the job search and applications and interviews and all that bullshit. Once you figure out what you’re looking for, I can help you update your resume too. Not to brag, but I’m pretty good at that shit.”

John sighed, but there was a note of relief in the sound, and that flooded _Alex_ with relief as well. “Yeah, okay. I just– I want to do something _useful_. Something that actually helps people. I get what you're saying, I know feeling guilty isn’t helpful, but still. If I can take some of the privilege that I have and use it to flip the system a little bit, do something positive instead of just playing the part I was meant to, well I want to do that.”

Alex smiled, reaching out to grab John’s hand and squeeze it tight. It was starting to get dark out, the sun hiding below the tree-line now, but in the dim glow he could still make out the concerned furrow in his brow, the troubled look in his eyes. “Hey,” Alex said softly to catch his attention. “You _will_. You’re not just some helpless, spoiled kid, okay? You’re a fighter, just like me, and you’re gonna find some way to change the world. I _know_ you will. You’re too stubborn not to.” 

John laughed at the gentle teasing, his face softening, and he tugged Alex closer, pulling him into his side and tilting his face up to press a kiss to his lips. “I love you,” he said softly, eyes still closed and their lips brushing. “So goddamn much.” 

Alex leaned up for another kiss, lingering a little longer this time. “Love you too.” He brought a hand up to rest lightly against John’s chest, feeling the faint rhythm of his heart underneath it, the gentle rise and fall as he breathed in the night air. “You’re gonna be fine. You know that, right?” Alex smiled when he caught the responding flicker of warmth in John’s eyes. “And someday you’re gonna look back on all of this and wonder how you ever could have doubted yourself.”

The corner of John’s lips twitched up and he tugged Alex in even closer. “Come _here_.” He pulled Alex’s face to his and when he slipped his tongue up against his lips, Alex parted them readily, feeling a spark of excitement catch in his blood at the urgent way John’s fingers were tangling in his hair, keeping him held close. John hummed an impatient note into the kiss and grabbed at Alex’s hip with his other hand, maneuvering the two of them until Alex was sitting in his lap, straddling his thighs. The new position pressed their bodies closer, and Alex could feel his cheeks starting to heat as his body reacted to the proximity. Could feel himself start to stir, and he brought a hand up to John’s chest pulling back and keeping the two of them a couple of inches apart while he tried to steady himself. 

“ _Fuck_ , John,” he sighed, and the words sounded reverent and breathy to his own ears in a way that probably would have embarrassed him only a couple of months ago. “We shouldn’t. If anyone comes out here, they’ll be able to tell what we’ve been doing.”

“So?” John brought his hand back up to Alex’s face, tracing the line of his jaw and running featherlight fingers down his neck, brushing over his shoulders, his collarbone, and making Alex shiver. Defiance in the set of his jaw and the way he continued to caress and touch, and even through the fear of getting caught out here, Alex couldn’t deny the shift into this more confident mood was starting to press some of his buttons. “I don’t _care_ , Alex. _I want you._ ” John pulled him into another kiss– deep and burning– and when they finally broke apart again, Alex felt dizzy with all of it. 

He glanced back up at the house, fairly far away considering the size of the huge property, and bit down on his lip again, fighting between his fear of being seen in some sort of compromising position by one of John’s little siblings or– even worse– Henry, and the reckless desire to throw caution to the wind and get the fuck on with it. With John underneath him, pressing insistent fingers into his back, holding him tight and practically vibrating with anticipation, Alex could feel the scales already starting to tip in his favor. 

“No one really comes way out here anyway,” John murmured, pressing the words into his neck between kisses. “And the trees block the view from the house so it’s not like anyone could see us from the windows, even if it wasn’t dark out already. Come _on_ , Alex. _Please?_ ”

Something in that last _please_ sounded so raw, like John was asking for comfort rather than just sex. _Intimacy._ And Alex’s resolve crumbled instantly. He reached for John’s face, tugging him in and crashing their lips together again, urgent and deep, and he felt that same dizzying rush of emotion, just like he had up on the rooftop of his building after the disastrous lunch that kick started this whole weekend of bullshit, and he wasn’t exactly sure _why_ that rush of emotion hit him so suddenly because it’s not like anything exactly momentous had happened _today_. But when he heard that pleading tone in John’s voice, he knew he needed to _answer_ it, needed to prove that he could be there for him, that he _would_ be there for him, knowing that John trusted him enough to lay everything out the way he did, to confide in him and let him in, let him _help_ , it was all just coalescing into an incomprehensible mess of feelings that Alex couldn’t quite put into words, so he spoke them through action instead. Both of them communicating through touch– hands on skin, lips, breathless gasps and sighs. And when Alex blinked his eyes open, John was staring back at him, the dim radiance of dusk illuminating his face like the last embers of a fire, bright and intense and full of potential. He leaned back, slightly impatient, when John’s hands came to the button on his jeans, shifting to give him room to undo his fly and reach a hand inside. 

Alex bit down on his lip to stifle a moan at the contact, just a layer of fabric between them. Braced himself with one hand behind him in the grass, the other gripping his own thigh, as John worked him up, stroking Alex to full hardness with embarrassing speed as he leaned forward and trailed a line of kisses down his neck to one shoulder, the fingers of his other hand brushing up underneath his shirt, lighting up nerves like electricity wherever they touched bare skin. “John,” he sighed, still conscious enough of where they were to keep his voice low even as his body responded to John’s hands and lips with desperate need. “Please, I need more– please, just–” 

He cut himself off with a sharp inhale when John pulled back with a frantic, “ _Yes_ ,” and then suddenly he was hauling Alex up to his feet, shoving him roughly up against the nearest tree and crashing their mouths together in a searing kiss that left Alex’s lips tingling and his head spinning when John finally broke apart from him again. He was so disoriented by all of it that it took him a second to realize when John dropped down to his knees in the grass, tugging at Alex’s jeans and boxer briefs until they were halfway down his thighs and diving right in to lick a hot stripe up the underside of his shaft. 

“ _Fuck_ , John,” Alex gasped with a choked off moan, wrapping one hand around the back of his neck to keep him close and pressing the palm of his other against the tree, bracing himself even as the bark dug sharply into his skin. “ _Fuck–_ ” He bit down hard on his lip to stifle a groan as John swallowed him down. Warm heat was already pooling low in his abdomen, the pleasant buzz in his body rising too high, too quick after such a stressful weekend– they really hadn’t had a chance to be alone together since that first morning– and when John took him all the way to the back of his throat and that tight heat enveloped him, he knew he wouldn’t last long. He had half a thought to try and prolong it, but when he attempted to gasp a quick warning, John only doubled down, growing _more_ insistent, all tongue and glorious suction, and when he brought his hands up to grip Alex’s hips– holding him firm with a familiar touch that seemed to know him so intimately, so perfectly– it was enough to set him over the edge, his whole body going loose as that wondrous burst of pleasure overtook him, and he spilled onto his tongue, trembling through his orgasm as John continued to bob his head and press his tongue up against him, making sure to keep going until Alex was completely spent. He watched through half lidded eyes as John sat back on his heels and swallowed it down, sinking all of his weight back against the tree as he tugged his pants up again, only slightly worried his legs would give out if he tried to stand on his own. 

John smiled up at him, and even though it was growing properly dark now, Alex could see the subtle changes in his expression, how the fear and worry from earlier were replaced by something different. Urgency. Eagerness. Adrenaline. Like now that he was past that mental block, he simply wanted to _live_. It sent a thrill down Alex’s spine and a rush of warmth straight to his heart. 

When John didn’t stand up right away, Alex slid down the trunk of the tree until he was sitting on the ground, his legs splayed to the either side of him, feeling more relaxed and at ease than he had their entire trip. He grinned when John crawled closer, straddled his lap and kissed him deep, the taste of Alex still lingering on his tongue. The two of them so close, so connected it felt impossible to tell where one of them ended and the other began. 

Alex didn’t break apart their kiss as he reached down between them, pressing a firm hand between John’s legs and feeling a swell of satisfaction rise up in his chest when he groaned at the touch, already hard as he bucked forward into it. John pressed his tongue in deeper, something wild and desperate in his urgency, and Alex leaned back against the tree to give him space to kneel up again, their mouths still connected, moving with one another, as John reached down and undid his own fly, grabbing Alex’s hand and pulling it to him with that same frantic urgency, inside his underwear until Alex wrapped his fingers around warm, silky smooth skin, swallowing down John’s broken gasp as he gave a few short strokes, working him up quickly. 

When John finally pulled back from the kiss, it was only to bring his lips down to Alex’s neck, kissing and sucking marks into his skin that would probably be visible later when they were back at the house, but Alex couldn’t bring himself to care because John was grinding his hips forward into his touch, groaning and digging his nails in where he had wrapped arms around Alex’s back, keeping them close enough that Alex could feel his pulse, the change in his breathing as he got closer and closer to the edge, biting down hard to stifle a moan as he shook apart in Alex’s hand, hot spurt of come suddenly coating his fingers. 

The two of them stayed just like that for a moment, both breathing hard, John’s forehead pressed against his shoulder as they came down from the momentary high. Alex slowly removed his hand, careful not to get any of the mess on either of their clothing, and leaned back more heavily against the trunk as John climbed off of him, immediately collapsing onto his back against the grass with a satisfied huff. “ _God_ , Alex.” He didn’t sound capable of saying much else as he closed his eyes, his arms spread out to either side of him, thoroughly satisfied. 

Alex felt the smile melt onto his own face, loose and easy like the rest of his body, as he watched the rise and fall of John’s chest, peaceful in the quiet of the open air around them, nothing but the sound of the river and the soft chirping of the insects to fill the silence.

Eventually, the mess on his hand started to feel a little too gross to be comfortable, so Alex glanced around and settled on washing it off in the river. John propped himself up to watch as Alex crossed over towards the river bank, kneeling down and leaning over the side to reach his hand below the surface. 

“Careful,” he warned him, that soft contentment still warming his voice even as it took on a slight concerned edge. 

Alex began to glance over his shoulder, to wave off the unnecessary protectiveness, but the action threw him off balance, and his other hand, which he had been using to brace himself, slipped on a particularly wet patch of grass, and he fell over the side of the river bank into the water with a yelp and a loud splash. 

The river wasn’t particularly deep at the edge, and the current wasn’t very strong, but it was cold enough in the October chill that it sent an unpleasant shock through him when his body hit the water, and he coughed and spluttered as he broke the surface again, scrambling for the river bank so he could try to hoist himself back up onto the grass. 

“Shit,” he heard John curse as he hurried over, but there was a hint of laughter in his voice as well. Alex pursed his lips, noting the amusement at his expense. “You okay down there?” He reached one hand down towards him as he kneeled down, and Alex grasped it, about to try and climb back up when he got a better idea– tugged as hard as he could so that John fell off balance and flailed before falling into the water as well.

“You dick!” John yelled at him, though with clear amusement as he splashed and shook wet curls out of his face. 

Alex felt his smile stretching wide as he splashed back, laughing at John’s reaction and at how fucking ridiculous they both looked, soaked through, still fully dressed. It felt nice, this little moment with no tension, no fighting, none of the stress from work or John’s family. Just the two of them. Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders that he wasn’t even aware he had been carrying. And even though Alex was sure this brief spell where their troubles seemed lighter wouldn’t last, he was grateful for the momentary reprieve. 

When John finally climbed out and pulled him back up onto the grass, they laid there together for a while, neither of them ready to go back to the house just yet. They watched silently as more and more stars appeared in the rapidly darkening sky. It reminded Alex of home– not New York, but back on the island with his mother when they would lay out on the beach under the stars, and she would tell Alex stories until he got too tired to walk back to the house, and she’d have to carry him all the way home. He found that for once, the reminder didn’t make his heart ache. With John so close to him, one arm securely wrapped around his shoulders, the night provided a little slice of comfort he didn’t even know he had been missing. When a sudden, cold breeze hit, it blew right through their wet clothes, and Alex leaned in closer to steal John’s body heat, laying his head against his chest and listening to the sound of his heart, enjoying this peace for as long as he was able.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't originally going to end with porn but... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Anyway a snowstorm is coming tonight so please leave me comments to get me through the next couple of days lol 
> 
> As always, I'm on tumblr @thatwouldbee-enough and on insta @thatwouldbeeenough


	61. Chapter 61

The moment Alex switched his phone off of airplane mode as the plane taxied, a barrage of messages came through. John watched his face twist in confusion as he tried to quickly scroll through them. He caught the theme soon enough and shoved John on the arm to get his full attention. “Shit,” he said, passing over his phone with a message from Lafayette pulled up on the screen. “I thought they weren’t supposed to publish the piece until tomorrow.”

John’s eyes grew wide as he scanned the message, and then clicked the link to the article embedded in the text. “They weren’t,” he said, feeling what was probably irrational panic spark in his chest– there was probably just a mix up with the date after all. “What the hell?” He skimmed through the article, frowning in distaste at the sensationalist phrasing, obviously trying to spin this into something more than it was. That’s always how it went though. Nothing surprising about a journalist embellishing to keep the reader’s attention. It wasn’t until he got about halfway down that he really felt himself start to heat with anger, and he knew immediately that Alex hadn’t actually read the damn thing yet or he _definitely_ would have had more to say. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” 

He squeezed his hand into a fist in his lap, the other gripping Alex’s phone tightly, as an older woman turned around to face them from the row in front. “Could you watch your language?” she snapped with the attitude of someone who probably used bullshit phrases like _kids these days have no respect_ on the regular. 

John fought the urge to roll his eyes, but clenched his jaw and nodded tersely. “Sorry,” he said, not meaning it one bit. 

Alex craned his neck towards the screen, trying to get a better view. “What? What is it?”

He tilted the phone towards him and jabbed his finger at a line with a look of disgust. “The guy who wrote the article is a total d– um, jerk. The guy’s a jerk.” John sighed, already not looking forward to Alex’s reaction. “God, Alex, I never would have even brought you down there if I knew they were going to spin it like _this_.”

Alex’s brow furrowed in concern as he grabbed John’s hand to steady the screen and finally read the line he had been referring to, softly muttering the words aloud. “Though John Laurens seemed unwilling to divulge much of anything about the relationship, his boyfriend was only too eager to share his thoughts on the politics of a state in which he’s never resided. He expressed his distaste for the popular policies regarding religious freedom, stating that ‘what’s expected by [Senator Laurens’s] constituents is quite clearly wrong.’ One has to wonder if this isn’t all simply some rebellious phase from the senator’s son. Perhaps the New York City air quality has started to affect his judgement.”

Alex made a short, affronted noise in the back of his throat and shoved the phone away from him again. “Well that quote is _clearly_ taken out of context.” He glared at the phone and then grabbed it back, pulling it too close to his face and scrolling further down to catch any other possible incriminating statements on his character. 

“Yeah,” John said distractedly, trying to read the rest of it over Alex’s shoulder. “Journalists will do that.” He watched as Alex’s brow creased the more he read more, shaking his head to himself. “You’ve got to be careful what you say, Alex,” he noted, uncomfortably aware that he was basically heeding his father’s unsolicited advice at this point– warning Alex about holding his tongue around the press. “Especially when you know you’re speaking with someone who doesn’t agree with you. Of course he was going to twist your words.”

Alex lifted his head from the screen with a sharp, jerking movement, directing his glare at John instead. “Are you implying this is _my fault_? That guy has no fucking integrity– that’s hardly _my_ fault!” 

The woman in front of them breathed a noisy, irritated sigh, as John’s shoulders tensed. He glanced sideways at Alex, his face starting to turn a little pink from his own outrage. “Keep your voice down please?” he requested tersely, slightly worried they were going to be scolded by a flight attendant at this rate, as he placed a hand on Alex’s knee. Breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he didn’t push him away. 

“Does your dad have that guy’s number?” he asked, sharp and clearly fueled by his sudden spite. 

“Alex.” John turned to face him properly, reading the determination in the set of his jaw, the fire in his eyes. “What are you planning on _doing_ with his number?”

Alex waved the question off, too impatient to wait for an answer as he pulled up a search on his phone. “Never mind, I’ll just look it up myself. He’s gotta have contact info online somewhere. Liddell, right?” 

“ _Alex,_ ” he snapped, snatching the phone out of his hands before he could start screaming at the guy’s secretary while they were still trapped in the first class cabin where people would _definitely_ not be pleased with that kind of a scene. “Can you just chill for one second and _think_ before you go on the attack?”

Alex exhaled a sharp huff as he narrowed his eyes up at John. “Give me my phone,” he demanded, voice low but dangerous. The same voice he used with people who particularly pissed him off at work. 

“Not until you tell me what you plan on _doing_ with it.” He wedged his hand with the phone underneath him and sat on top of them both so Alex wouldn’t be able to make a grab for it. “Did you learn _anything_ from that whole Twitter situation? Immediately biting back at these people is hardly the smart thing to do.”

“I can’t just _ignore_ _it_ , John.” 

“Why not?”

Alex blinked back at him, momentarily stuck. Brows drawn down and mouth slightly open like he couldn’t quite comprehend the question.

“Why not, Alex? Just leave it be, and it’ll fade away. This is hardly _news_ . If you leave it alone, the story’ll get brushed under things that actually _matter_ , and absolutely _no one_ will remember this guy’s stupid so-called ‘reporting’ in a few days.”

“I _can’t_ ,” he insisted, shaking his head furiously. “I mean, what I said during that interview was _correct_ . Those precious _religious freedom_ policies that southern Republicans love to harp on about are nothing but a government-sanctioned free-for-all to discriminate. _And_ I stand by the fact that those damn policies wouldn’t be as popular if they protected _everyone’s_ right to vote down there. You lose your voting rights if you’re incarcerated for a fucking _misdemeanor_ in South Carolina. That’s bull. That guy obviously took out the bulk of what I said just to make me look bad. It’s slimy and spineless.”

“Yeah, _and_?” John leveled an aggravated stare at him, not breaking eye contact as Alex pursed his lips. “Look, I don’t like it either, Alex– you read the shit they said about _me_ – but you agreed to the interview. You knew it was a conservative paper. Did you think they were going to take what you said in there– socially liberal talking points and all– and publish it in a super flattering light?”

“No, I just–”

“You _what_ , Alex? You thought that they were going to be _fair_?” John could feel his own frustration flaring because hadn’t he _told_ Alex just how aggravating and unfair the press could be when it came to this sort of bullshit? Hadn’t he tried to impress upon Alex countless times how cautious he had to be with the scrutiny growing up? How fucking practiced he was with all of this garbage? “You made a mistake, okay? You misjudged. Now just let it go, _please_.”

“ _No_ ,” Alex hissed, ice in his voice, as a few people began to look their way. He lunged towards John’s other side to try and wrestle his phone out from under him, but John just leaned further away. “This is _my_ reputation, okay? It’s my life, and I’ll go after this guy for his dumbass comments if I damn well please–”

John’s jaw clenched hard while Alex flailed, attempting to get a grip on his phone, until he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. “It’s my life too!” he snapped, feeling his face heat with both anger and embarrassment at the spectacle they were creating. “Do you not _get that_? Or do you just not care?”

Alex’s face fell immediately, and he sat back in his seat, straightening up awkwardly. “John, I didn’t–”

“I don’t want this drama to be dragged out any longer than necessary, Alex. I’m sick of it!” John glared out the window, watching as they slowed to a careful stop. “I have enough to worry about without needing to focus on your idiotic feud with some reporter. Without having to worry about our relationship being dragged _back_ into public attention. You need to learn when to put aside your pride and just shut the hell up.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed again, and he leaned heavily back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “ _Fine._ ” 

When he didn’t say anything for another ten or twenty seconds, John caught on to his intent. He was annoyed enough– and mortified enough by all the attention their fighting had drawn– that he didn’t argue against the childish silent treatment. Just rolled his eyes and checked outside again, praying that they were almost ready to get off this damn plane. 

* * *

Finally back inside LaGuardia, the two of them weaved their way through the crowds to get to baggage claim. Alex gave John an impatient look as they stepped onto a moving walkway, raising one unimpressed eyebrow. “Can I have my phone back now?” He made an irritated noise at the skeptical look John gave him, though it was admittedly somewhat deserved. “I’m not going to _do_ anything, alright? One of those messages was from Washington, and I’d like to know whether he’s pissed at me or something.” He _was_ worried about that. Considering how Washington reacted the _last_ time Alex hadn’t fully thought things through before speaking and made a fool of himself. “Plus Herc will worry if I don’t let him know we landed safe. He’s such a _mom_.” 

As they stepped off of the walkway, John fished the phone out of his pocket, finally handing it over with obvious reluctance. “Fine. But I’m serious, Alex. Don’t do anything stupid before talking to me about it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I _won’t_.” He pulled the messages back up as they walked, narrowly avoiding a few collisions and maneuvering with his peripheral vision alone. He immediately scrolled down to Washington’s, holding his breath as he opened the text.

\--Wash: Hello Alexander, I hope the trip went well. I have some news regarding the campaign that I’d like to discuss with you as soon as you’re able. Give me a call when you get the chance.

Alex felt his eyes go wide at the message, and he didn’t realize he had stopped walking until a few people grumbled as they came up short behind him and had to go around. John slowed as he realized Alex wasn’t with him, then came to a stop, glancing back over his shoulder with a questioning look. “I’ve gotta make a call,” Alex told him quickly, already starting over towards the side of the large, open hallway. 

“Alex, you _better_ not be calling fucking _Liam_ –”

“I swear on my life I’m not.” He couldn’t quite hold back his little eye roll. “Just– something came up. I’ll meet you at baggage claim. Keep an eye out for my stuff!” He raised his voice over the crowd as he got farther away and there was more distance between them, and it looked like John was starting to say something, but Alex couldn’t quite hear. He gave him one last confused look before turning around and continuing through the crowd. 

Alex stared down at the phone in his hand, heart beating too fast, and leaned up against a window ledge, dropping his carry on by his feet. 

He pressed the call button before he could overthink it. 

The phone rang once, twice, and then Washington picked up, his voice sounding as deep and stern as always on the other end of the line. Alex shoved a finger in his other ear to block out the excess noise. 

“Alexander?”

“Hello, sir. I got your message. Just got off the plane and wanted to give you a call back.” He felt stiff and awkward, overly aware of how their last real conversation had gone as he tried to gauge Washington’s mood by the one word he had spoken and the sound of his breathing in the few seconds of silence. “So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

“Ah, yes. Well, I’ve decided to move ahead with the campaign earlier than expected.” His voice held that particular no-nonsense tone that Alex knew well enough by this point. Could always tell when Washington was calling because he wanted his help with something before he even got into the weeds of his request. He felt himself breathe a sigh of relief that crept into every inch of body, loosening the tight knot that had twisted itself into his stomach ever since the last time they had spoken. “I’m going to need to publicly announce my intent to run of course. My advisors are aiming to have this done within the next week so we can move forward with our other plans.” He paused, letting the intent of the words bleed through before he even gave his proposal, and Alex could feel the grin spreading on his face in spite of himself, the news from the plane seeming so goddamn inconsequential now. “If you’re up for it, I’d love to recruit your help with the writing. This would have to be in addition to your current work– I can’t have you doing campaign work on the company’s dime, after all– but you’ll be compensated for it. What do you say, Alexander?”

It took Alex a moment to find his voice, even though the answer _must_ have been obvious to the both of them long before Washington even picked up the phone. “Of course, sir. I’d be happy to. More than happy to, in fact.” He took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice, the excitement running through his veins making him feel a little shaky. “Do your campaign advisors have any notes put together yet on the direction you want to take things? And do you know how the announcement will be made yet? A press conference or–?”

“Alexander,” Washington said firmly, cutting him off. Washington didn’t smile often, but it sounded like he was smiling on the other end of the line. “I’ll have them send you the notes. Now, you said you just got off the plane– are you still at the airport?”

Alex glanced up at the transient space around him, having almost forgotten where he was with how sucked into the moment he had been. People were still bustling past, families and businessmen in suits and couples holding hands, living their own lives and trying to get from point A to point B while he was receiving what could be a life changing opportunity. None of them were aware of the enormity of the moment they were passing by. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright then. Why don’t I let you get home first before you dive into everything? I’ll make sure to have the emails sent over, and you can look it all over tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow morning once you get into the office.”

Alex chewed at the inside of his lip. _One week._ That was already an incredibly short timeline for something like this, and he’d have to do it outside of normal work hours. He’d much rather start throwing himself into the details right this minute, but he knew he’d have a hard time convincing Washington of that over the phone. “If you have the files available to send over now, sir,” he said, pitching his voice almost apologetic so he didn’t sound as demanding. “The ride back to my apartment will take a while, and it’ll give me something to do in the Uber.” 

“Yes, alright. I’ll make sure they’re sent over _soon_. Now, get yourself back home, Alexander. I’m sure you’ve earned at least a few minutes of rest before the week starts in earnest.”

As if he could possibly think about _resting_ right now. Alex wanted to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. “Alright sir, I will. Thank you– for um, for asking me to be a part of this. You won’t regret it.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Alexander.”

The line went silent, and Alex pulled the phone away from his ear and just stared at the screen for a long moment, still in shock by the abrupt way that had all gone down. Before the call, he had been worried Washington would be pissed at him for another stupid mistake, and yet here he was, _officially_ offered a role writing the campaign announcement. This could be huge for his career. This could be _life changing_. If Washington won– and Alex really did think he had a good shot– then having his name attached to these speeches, these public appearances where people would associate _him_ with the success of the campaign, it could open up more doors than Alex had even contemplated existing when he first moved to New York. 

He closed his eyes, took a minute to gather himself so he didn’t look absolutely insane, beaming like a maniac as he walked through the airport, and finally hurried off to meet John at baggage claim with a new, bubbling hope high in chest that instantly melted away all the tension from earlier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, the boys *don't* get even one day without drama 
> 
> Leave comments down below please ❤️
> 
> As always, on tumblr @thatwouldbee-enough and insta @thatwouldbeeenough


	62. Chapter 62

When they got back to Alex’s apartment, John was glad he had this new project to distract him from that stupid article and goddamn _Liam_. Alex had been emailing back and forth with a couple of Washington’s advisors the entire Uber ride from the airport, throwing himself in head first just like always, already offering advice and ideas to people with years of experience on him because that was just what Alex _did_. 

John was happy for him, but he also couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach because all of _this_ – the fact that Alex was taking on this new opportunities and chasing after what he wanted so _successfully_ – was casting his own situation in stark contrast. He couldn’t shake the awful feeling that he was slipping farther and farther behind while Alex scoured the internet for any information he could find on potential opponents in the upcoming senate race. 

As John sat on the couch next to him, Alex’s frantic pace made him feel like he should be _doing_ something. He leaned forward, placing a gentle hand on Alex’s knee to interrupt his focus. It took him at least a full thirty seconds before he finally tore his eyes away from the screen, blinking up at John with a questioning tilt of his head as he reoriented himself to the world outside his tunnel vision. 

“Hey, I’m going to head back to my place, alright?”

Alex’s brows drew down in response, his face scrunching in momentary confusion. “Oh. I thought you might stay here tonight.” 

John’s lips pulled into a tight, forced smile. “My work bag is at my place. Plus, you’re busy. I don’t want to distract you.”

“You’re not distracting me,” he muttered, half his attention already pulled back to something on his screen. 

And that was part of the problem. He _wasn’t_ distracting Alex. He was sitting on his ass doing absolutely nothing useful while Alex was making progress with his life. 

“Regardless.” He pushed himself up to his feet, watching Alex type a few notes to himself in the comments of his document. “You can come back to my place if you want,” he offered, more because he felt like he should than because any part of him believed Alex would take him up on it. 

As expected, Alex bit his lip, tore his eyes away from the screen to throw John an apologetic look. “It’s just easier to work here, in my own space.”

John nodded, hoping it looked more reassuring than defeated. “It’s fine, Alex, really. I know you’re busy.” He grabbed his luggage from the corner where he had dropped it off, and then came around the back of the couch to press a kiss to the top of Alex’s head. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Alex placed his laptop next to him on the seat cushion and turned around, bracing himself on the back of the couch to kneel up and kiss him properly. “Love you,” he hummed into lips, not an inch of space between them. 

John pulled back just a little to press a kiss to forehead, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “Love you, too.” 

\----

John was only at his apartment for about twenty minutes before the feeling of restlessness began gnawing at him. The elevator up to Lafayette’s apartment felt too quiet without Alex there beside him, and John’s own thoughts filling the void did nothing to settle his mood. A rush of relief washed over him when the doors slid open and Lafayette hurried over from the kitchen, enveloping him in a quick hug. 

“John! Welcome back! How was your trip home?”

He shrugged his jacket off, hanging it up on a hook by the elevator and flashing Lafayette a skeptical look. “You read the article already, you _know_ how it went.”

“Yes, yes,” Lafayette told him, waving the words off. “But you can’t tell me you didn’t know how that would turn out– involving Alex in the interview. The outcome can’t be much of a surprise to you.” 

John shrugged, unwilling to admit that he _had_ known Alex would probably put his foot in his mouth somehow. That didn’t mean he hadn’t hoped he _wouldn’t_. 

“Anyway, I am not asking how the _interview_ went. I am asking how your _trip_ went. This was the first time Alex met your family! He’s been frustratingly vague about everything over our texts. I want to know how it all went!”

“Oh.” John hovered by the kitchen island as Lafayette opened the fridge, held out some sort of craft beer in offering. “Thanks. Um, it went alright I guess. He seemed to get along well with the kids. Jemmy especially.”

“Your favorite,” Lafayette noted, popping the cap on his own bottle and handing the opener to John. 

“I don’t have a _favorite_ , Lafayette.” 

Lafayette raised one eyebrow at him, leaning against the counter. “Well you certainly talk about him more than the others.”

John rolled his eyes and took a sip. “He talks to _me_ more than the others. Of course I’m going to talk about him more when he texts me every other day.”

“And your father? How was he?”

John grimaced, but shrugged, leaning on one elbow. “He was fine. He wasn’t thrilled about this one particular thing Alex said in the interview, but they mostly cut his answer anyway.”

“Mmmmm yes. Alex _did_ mention that bit once he read it. He was not happy with the omission.”

John pursed his lips. “He’ll be fine.”

Leveling a careful gaze at him, Lafayette set his drink down on the counter. “Where _is_ Alex anyway? I figured when you asked to stop by that he’d be with you.”

“He’s at his place.” John said, averting his gaze as he dodged the real intent behind the question, staring at the bottle in his hands instead. 

“Did you two fight?”

He rolled his eyes. “No– well yes. But that’s fine now I think. That’s not why he’s at his place. He’s not _mad_ at me.”

“Alright…” Lafayette walked around the island and towards the living room, prompting John to follow. Once the two of them had settled next to each other on opposite ends of the couch, Lafayette turned to face him again. “Well then, why _isn’t_ he here?”

John sighed. “He’s working on something for Washington.” He kept the words intentionally vague, fairly certain no one was supposed to know yet. 

“All of his projects for the end of the week were reassigned.” Lafayette’s face scrunched in confusion. “He shouldn’t have anything to work on yet for the coming week.”

“I don’t know, Lafayette, alright? He’s just busy with something, and I didn’t feel like sitting by myself in my apartment all evening.”

“Why do you sound so irritated?”

John huffed. Took another sip of the beer. _“I’m not.”_

“Alright.” 

The silence settled uncomfortably between them, and John just _knew_ Lafayette didn’t believe him. He dropped the beer back down onto the coffee table and leaned back into the cushions, crossing his arms across his chest. “Would you ever let me stay here… if I needed to?”

Lafayette glanced over at him, seemingly thrown off by the sudden question. “I’ve told you before you’re welcome to stay over anytime you like. Are you sure things are okay with Alex–?”

“No.” John shook his head, frustrated at how badly he was getting this across. “Not just, like, one night. I mean– if I needed to use your spare room for a little while?” 

Lafayette’s eyes widened in surprise just a fraction, but he shrugged, trying to put a casual air into it. “Of course. I have more than enough space. But, is there something wrong with your apartment?”

“No, no, the apartment is fine.” John took a deep breath, and the dam holding his frustration back finally crumbled. He let his head fall back, let the air out of his lungs in a deep groan. “My father gave me an ultimatum. Figure everything out and pay my own bills in New York, or move to DC and work in his office once my internship is up. And _god_ , I know this is stupid, but I’m kind of freaking out about it.” His eyes darted to Lafayette’s face, self conscious as he checked for any sign of judgement. When he didn’t see it, he pressed on, his anger starting to reignite. “Alex thinks I’ll be fine _of course_. He thinks anyone could be just as annoyingly over-capable as he is if they only tried hard enough.” Saying the words aloud, he realized just how similar his father and Alex were in that respect. Shoved the thought away as soon as it came to him– he really didn’t want to examine _that_ right now. “Sorry, really, I swear we’re not fighting right now. It’s just so frustrating to watch him be so _good_ at all of this– knowing what he wants and knowing how to get it, always so goddamn _sure_ of himself– while I’m over here just trying to keep my head above water.” Lafayette gave him a look that was half pity, half question, so he sighed and added, “Please don’t tell anyone about this because I honestly don’t know who’s _allowed_ to know, but Alex is working on writing the announcement for Washington’s senate campaign. Because _of fucking course_ he’s been asked to handle something like that.” He sunk back further into the couch cushions and groaned in frustration. “I’m not mad that he got the job working on the campaign of course. I know he’s excited about it, and I’d be an asshole not to be excited for him, you know? But it just sucks watching him being so goddamn successful at not even twenty two years old when I’m sitting over here with no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

Lafayette took a careful sip of his drink, probably taking the moment to organize his thoughts because when he spoke he sounded much more put together than John felt. “Have you said any of this to Alex? How you’re comparing yourself to him?”

“No,” John admitted, turning his head to the side to look at Lafayette. Figured he was about to start lecturing him about communication or some bullshit. 

“Good. Don’t.” John sat up a little straighter at that, not expecting that, but Lafayette just sighed deeply and continued. “I understand _why_ you’re upset, but I can’t see anything good coming from that conversation. I see two possibilities. Either you make Alex self conscious of his own success– unlikely considering it’s _Alexander Hamilton_ we’re talking about– or he gets upset with you for comparing yourself to him. He’s going to feel like you’re diminishing his success by conflating it with your problems, and to be quite honest, he _shouldn’t_ have to deal with that right now. He has a lot going on, John. He needs to be focused on all of the work he’s taking on, and he needs your _support_ , not resentment.” 

John shrunk back into the cushions again, feeling like he was being scolded. “I just feel like a failure sometimes,” he muttered, staring down at his lap. “Or like… if I wanted to be successful in the way that everyone else thinks I should be, I’d be fucking miserable. Do you know what I mean?”

Lafayette let out a deep sigh, resting his elbow on one knee and propping his chin in his hand. “I know about disappointing people, yes, John. My family and acquaintances back in France still haven’t forgiven me for abruptly moving across the ocean. But you cannot constantly be living your life based off of other people’s expectations. Or comparing yourself to other people for that matter,” he added pointedly. 

John hummed in reluctant agreement, kicking at the leg of the coffee table absently. 

“Now,” he asked, impatient excitement bleeding into the words so thoroughly that he must have been straining himself to hold it in, “are you settled enough that I can tell you something?”

“Uh.” John glanced up at the eager grin spreading across his face and shrugged. “Sure?”

“Adrienne is no longer upset with me!” he exclaimed, practically buzzing as he beamed with the announcement. “And she has agreed to come visit, so you will get a chance to finally meet her. At some point next month, most likely.”

“Oh, wow. That’s actually really great,” John said, leaning towards Lafayette and patting him on the shoulder with a genuine smile. “What’d you have to do to get her to finally accept your apology?”

Lafayette’s expression turned sheepish, and he dropped eye contact. “Well, after a couple months of many apologies, there may have been some bribery involved.”

John felt the corner of his lip pull up in a smirk, and he snorted. “Knew it.” He grabbed his beer again, taking a long sip as he smiled to himself, glad to be moving on from his problems now that he had aired them out. “What’d you get her?”

“A set of jewelry she had her eye on, and I also…. um...” He trailed off, very pointedly _not_ looking in John’s direction. 

“Hey,” John prompted, properly curious about it now that Lafayette seemed hesitant to tell him. “No backing out of this conversation _now_. What’d you give her?”

“It wasn’t necessarily a _gift_ ,” Lafayette murmured, annoyingly cryptic. John shoved him on the shoulder. 

“ _Lafayette._ _What_?”

“I– ah– I promised her we could more seriously discuss the possibility of having children in the near future.” He picked at a bit of lint on the couch, clearly self conscious, though John couldn’t tell if it was because he was nervous about the idea in general, or embarrassed to be talking about it with _John_. “After we get married of course,” he hurriedly clarified. “Her parents would be absolutely furious with me if she were to get pregnant and have a child out of wedlock.”

“Lafayette– _what the hell?_ ” 

“It has been an ongoing conversation,” he insisted, defensiveness creeping into his tone. 

_What the hell?_ “Do you even _want_ kids?”

“Yes,” Lafayette said with enough immediacy and enthusiasm that John knew it was the truth. Huh. “I’m just less sure of if I am ready. Adrienne, she’s just so confident that she knows what she wants when it comes to a family. Ugh. I wish I had half of her instinct when it comes to such matters.”

“I–” John paused, trying to catch up with the new information, and realizing he was completely out of his element here. “I feel like I am entirely unqualified to give you any sort of advice on this.” 

“It’s fine,” Lafayette muttered, pressing both his hands over his face with a dramatic groan. “I will just suffer.” 

John shook his head to himself, stuck halfway between exasperated and sympathetic. He reached a hand over to pat Lafayette’s thigh sympathetically. “We can suffer together. At least I’ll be in good company.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Therapy session with Laf
> 
> Leave comments please <3
> 
> Over on tumblr @thatwouldbee-enough


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